


For the Glory

by Rhiannon1199



Series: Spinning Gold [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alinor, Divorced Dragonborn/Vilkas, F/M, Fascism, Imperial victory, Invasion, Markarth, Post-Civil War, Rebellion, Resistance, Riften, Skooma, Substance Abuse, Summerset Isles, Vilkas is still a dick, War, probably lots of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-05-23 05:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 36,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14927942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon1199/pseuds/Rhiannon1199
Summary: In the north-western corner of Skyrim, the Aldmeri Dominion holds Solitude in its grip. But the other holds don't intend to let things stay that way.As a battle to liberate Solitude begins, Skyrim's people look to the Dragonborn for guidance. Eira has made a vow to wipe the Thalmor from the face of Tamriel, one province at a time, but will the Dominion's strength prove too great?





	1. Broken Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

The soldiers were, as I expected, totally incompetent. In fact, I was surprised that even a single one of them had made it back from the Great War. If Balgruuf had given me boys to train, I could have made elite soldiers of them in a matter of weeks, but these stubborn, _old_ Nords’ idea of strategy was to charge in and hit everything in sight. Not to mention how they resented answering to a Mer.

‘It’s impossible,’ I ranted to the Jarl, pacing back and forth in front of his throne. ‘I need men who are going to be obedient, receptive, and who aren’t already half-crippled with age.’

Balgruuf sighed. ‘It’s been over thirty years since they last faced the Dominion. The Stormcloaks were the last opponent that Whiterun had to defend against, and they were little more than a rabble.’

‘Making excuses for them solves nothing!’ I protested, rolling my eyes at the stern expression that settled over his face. ‘My lord.’

‘Hmph. I can launch a recruiting campaign if that helps, try and get some lads to sign up.’

‘My Jarl,’ Proventus said. ‘Perhaps we could invite our allied holds to send their forces here for training.’

‘Out of our budget?’

‘Well…no. But it makes no sense to have one group of soldiers trained to face Aldmeri forces whilst the others have to make do without.’

‘He’s right,’ I agreed. ‘The other holds don’t have me at their disposal, not unless their forces come here. A serious skill imbalance will break our ranks and leave us weak, and I haven’t got time to travel between holds before we take the Rift.’

‘I assume you’ll be expecting a pay rise for the trouble of training additional soldiers?’ Balgruuf grumbled.

‘Not at all. I’d happily play my part to bring down the Dominion for free if I could. All I ask is that I’m given some blank slates to work with.’

‘Very well. Proventus, compose a letter to Brunwulf, Kraldar, Joric and…well, address the last one to Nenya. Invite them to send whoever they can spare to Whiterun.’ Proventus nodded and scarpered off, eyeing me warily as he passed. ‘Irileth, go down to the barracks and give the men a kick up the backside, would you?’

‘My pleasure,’ Irileth answered, striding out of the keep.

‘You know,’ Balgruuf began. ‘The Companions are Whiterun’s best fighters. You could always ask them to assist with the training.’

‘With all due respect,’ I said. ‘The Companions wouldn’t last five minutes against a legion of Aldmeri soldiers.’

‘Really? Or is it just personal issues that are stopping you from involving them?’

I sighed. ‘I never even think about those days anymore. It’s Vilkas who can’t get over it.’

‘Is it any wonder?’ Balgruuf remarked. ‘He was cuckolded.’

‘He cuckolded himself,’ I argued. ‘He should move on to someone else and try not to make the same mistakes he made with Eira.’

‘Why don’t I arrange a meeting between you and Aela here?’ he suggested. ‘You won’t have to go anywhere near Jorrvaskr, or near Vilkas.'

‘If you’re convinced they’ll be any use,’ I answered. 'Go ahead. However, if they don’t comply with my instructions, I’ll be removing them from the training grounds.’

Balgruuf smiled. ‘Very well, Commander. You’re dismissed.’

 _Thank the gods for that_ , I thought to myself as I turned and walked out of Dragonsreach. The clunky armour that had become my uniform was stiflingly hot in the midsummer sun, and far too heavy for my liking. I scowled as I passed a group of trainees who were sat on a wall, drinking and laughing, still wearing their colours. Their smiles fell from their faces as I stopped in front of them.

‘Is this your idea of representing our forces?’ I hissed. ‘Get out of your colours and go drink in the tavern. MOVE IT!’

They muttered under their breath as they moved off, stumbling towards the barracks. I shook my head as they vanished around the corner. Grown men, complete with faces full of lines, drinking on the street like over-excited children who'd just had their first taste of ale.

Dominion recruits had to do a year of study before even entering the training stage. Among other things, like tactics, formations and battle planning, they were taught the principles that upheld the forces – obedience, humility, pride, sensibility, to name a few. If only the lives of Men were not so fleeting, and we weren’t on a time limit to recover from the Stormcloak rebellion quickly.

The taking of the Rift and the Reach served two purposes - to unify the country against the Thalmor so that we could retake Solitude, and to put the new training into practice. I was confident that only by learning how their enemy would fight could the Nords drive them out of Skyrim. 

Returning to Breezehome, I anticipated getting the stupid armour off. A note lay on the table - _Back later_ , it read. I poked my head into the small room that Sofie and Sissel shared, seeing it empty, neither the two of them or Vindar to be found.

Something gleamed on the floor, grabbing my attention. I reached down and picked it up, turning it over in my hands - a shard of dark, broken glass. Frowning, I tugged off my gauntlets and reached under the cabinet it had laid next to, my hand brushing against a wooden handle. I pulled out what turned out to be the dustpan and brush that Lydia had been looking for the previous night, full of shards of the same purplish glass. A distinctive smell wafted up from the fragments, sickeningly sweet. I glowered down at the glass, knowing that smell anywhere from the Khajiiti Dominion soldiers who snuck out of the barracks at night to fill themselves with their filthy fix. 

Skooma.

**********

By the time three chattering voices sounded outside the door, the daylight was fading away. Sofie, Sissel and Vindar fluttered in, and I didn't look up from my seat at the table, where I was busy writing up an official report on training progress for the Jarl. 

'Hey,' Sofie greeted cheerily. I placed my quill down. 

'Come here,' I ordered, rising from the bench and gesturing to it. 'Sit down. All of you.' 

They glanced between each other and obeyed, looking up at me, wide-eyed with confusion, or fear, maybe both. I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at them each.

'I think we need to have a little chat,' I said. 'About what I found in there - ' I glanced behind me at the door to the room. ' - when I came home today.' 

'What?' Sofie asked.

I reached behind me for the dustpan, which I had left on top of a barrel, still full of the glass.

'At least one of you knows this already,' I growled. 'But in case any of you don't...these are broken skooma bottles.'

'It wasn't me,' Vindar protested. 'I don't even stay here anymore.'

'A little quick to defend yourself, boy,' I hissed, eyeing him suspiciously.

'Vindar doesn't do skooma!' Sofie argued. 'He's a healer, he knows the risks!'

'Alright. If Vindar doesn't ingest this filth, who does?' Silence. I placed the dustpan back on top of the barrel and leaned down to their eye level. 'One of you is going to own up. Whoever did this _will_ confess, or I will punish all three of you.'

'But - !' Sofie began.

'Be quiet!' I snapped. 'Last chance. Own up, or you'll all suffer for it. And trust me, when your mother gets back and hears about this, you'll be regretting every taste of that vile liquid.'

'It was me,' Sissel whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. Sofie and Vindar both turned to stare at her, gaping. I stood up straight, aching. Of all three of them, the one I suspected least. 

'Sissel,' I said quietly. 'Stand up.' She stood on shaking legs, biting her lip. 'Look at me.'

Slowly, she raised her head. As her eyes locked onto mine, I brought the back of my hand across her cheek. It wasn't her wince, but the hurt in her bloodshot eyes, that broke my heart. I'd never struck either of the girls before. But timid, gentle Sissel, pouring skooma down her throat was more than enough to provoke my rage.

'Sofie, Vindar,' I said. 'Go to the tavern for a while.'

Without a word, the two of them got up and trudged out into the night again. Sissel was left quivering, as fragile and pale as a flake of snow. 

'Why?' I asked her. She shook her head.

'It's b-been so long since I h-heard from Joric,' she stammered. 'I thought...they said...I...'

'Who said what?'

'I went to see Olava,' she explained. 'Who told me she couldn't help me, but...Ysolda could. She sold me the skooma, said it would h-help my visions become more v-vivid.'

'That stuff is poison,' I told her. She began to sob, and I hated myself for striking her. What else could I do? What I really wanted was to march into Ysolda's house and chop her into messes, but that wouldn't exactly sit well with the locals. Besides, Sissel wasn't far from a grown woman now, capable of making her own stupid choices. As much as I still saw her and Sofie as the little girls who had rushed into Eira's arms in Jorrvaskr all those years ago, they weren't children anymore.

'I'm sorry,' she croaked, and I gave up trying to be cold, letting her cry against my shoulder, stroking her hair, soothing her the way I always had when she'd woken from nightmares, or when she was ill, or when she felt lonely in the days we lived in Jorrvaskr. 

'I didn't want to hit you,' I murmured, kissing the top of her head. 'But do you understand why I did?' She nodded, holding me tighter as another wave of sobs came over her.

'I just - I'm so scared!' she howled. 'It's like - it's like there was a l-light and it's just - just - gone!'

'There could be any number of reasons why you can't reach Joric,' I assured her. 'There's probably a perfectly rational explanation. In fact, Proventus Avenicci sent him a letter this afternoon. Why don't I let you know when we get the reply?' 

'Okay,' she agreed, looking up at me, wiping the tears away. 'Are you still going to tell Ma about this?'

'I can't keep secrets from her,' I said. 'But she'll be proud that you admitted it. I promise. You clear out when she gets home, and I'll talk to her. Now, you go and find Sofie and Vindar and tell them everything's fine, bring Sofie home, and get some rest.'

She sniffed and left the house with her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders, despite the heat of the summer evening. Maybe she just liked the comfort. When the door shut behind her, I seized an old bucket from the cabinet beside me and hurled it at the barrels under the stairs, cursing, watching it splinter.

 _And breathe_.


	2. The Blades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

My task was simple - scour the Reach for all the Forsworn tribes and try to convince their leaders to let our army pass through to Markarth safely. Of course, not all of them had been compliant, and some didn't even care to listen to my offer, but those who did found themselves exchanging our free passage for sovereignty of their own tribal hunting grounds and free worship of their native gods. They would be expected to stay away from the settlements and leave travellers on the roads alone, but they could take back all the wilderness of the Reach. If Jarl Igmund had a problem with that, he could answer to me. 

Having acquired the support of most of the tribes, and disposed of the others, I rode back towards Whiterun, along the same road that I had travelled with Ondolemar after the Thalmor came to arrest him. Sky Haven Temple loomed ahead, its peak capped with mist, and I frowned; it had been a long time since I'd had any contact with the Blades. They had wanted me to kill Paarthurnax, but the Greybeards were my mentors, and the old dragon was noble, fighting the same fight as I did against myself, the battle against one's own lust for power. I had refused, and so they had refused to assist me. Some 'protectors of the Dragonborn' they were.

Still, I paused in front of the bridge that led to the ancient Akaviri temple. The Forsworn camp there was long gone, the entrance visible. Or not. It was shut off, I realised, the entrance blocked by rocks, others laying strewn about the place, as if the roof had caved in. I tapped my mare's sides and guided her across the bridge, dismounting in front of the entrance to the temple. A shredded piece of fabric fluttered in the wind, trapped under a craggy rock. On it was the outline of a wing. An eagle's wing.

Of course. Sofie had revealed the Blades' location under torture. I had meant to send warning - despite Delphine's ignorance and pig-headedness, I wouldn't want her dead at the Thalmor's hands. All the drama in Morthal had put my mind elsewhere.

I scrambled up to the blocked entrance, finding a crack just wide enough to peer into. Nothing but darkness beyond.

'Hello?!' I called, listening to my voice echoing. 'Delphine?! Esbern?!’

‘Who goes there?’ demanded a voice I recognised, but not as Delphine or Esbern.

‘Jenassa? Is that you?’

‘Who asks?’

‘Eira.’

A pause. ‘Prove it.’

‘Don’t you recognise my voice?’

‘I said prove it!’

‘We met at The Drunken Huntsman,’ I said. ‘I’d not long escaped Helgen. I told you my story, and you told me about your life in Morrowind. Your father was a disgraced member of House Indoril, and he taught you to fight. Your mother was a priestess of Azura. They weren’t married – you’re illegitimate - ’

‘Alright!’ Jenassa hissed. ‘Enough. I believe you.’

‘Good,’ I replied. ‘What happened?’

‘They came in the night and collapsed the entrance,’ Jenassa explained. ‘The Thalmor. They’d posted a note through a crack, saying that we’d die trapped in here. That was three weeks ago. We’ve been rationing food, but we’re nearly out.’

‘Look, I have a plan, but Delphine won’t like it.’

‘Ha! Delphine is welcome not to like it, but I’ll do anything to get out of here.’

‘Can you get up to the top?’

‘I can. Only this bit is blocked off.’

‘Go up there now,’ I instructed her. ‘Tell the others I’m here and tell them not to attack.’

‘Attack what?’ I heard her ask, but I was already running out into the open space beside the temple, mustering my thu’um. ‘Odahviing!’

Within minutes, the dragon emerged from the clouds, dust flying up from the parched ground as he landed. ‘Hail, Brinaah.’

‘Hail, Zeymah,’ I responded. ‘I have a favour to ask.’

‘Ol zu’u mindol, Dovahkiin. You would not summon me for idle talk.’

I smiled. ‘I’m sure you have enough of that with Paarthurnax.’ His responding growl of disapproval, which would make any other person in Tamriel quake with fear, made me laugh. ‘Wah dii laan. There are people trapped up there - ’ I gestured to the temple. ‘And you and I are going to help them.’

Odahviing lowered himself closer to the ground, extending his wing so I could grab on and pull myself onto his back. Over the years, we had developed a bond I couldn’t explain, an understanding of one another. He was among a few dragons I had made alliances with, including Paarthurnax and Durnehviir, but the other two weren’t dragons I flew with or fought alongside. Occasionally, we would fly through the starry skies together, above the clouds, until the sun crept above the horizon. It almost felt like his wings were my own, the ones I never told anyone I longed for.

We landed atop Sky Haven Temple, where the Blades were standing around, weapons drawn. Delphine was scowling, Esbern beside her with an atronach ready. Jenassa had her hand on her sword, trying not to show her fear, and Borgakh and Stenvar had their finest battle-faces on.

‘Get that dragon away from here!’ Delphine yelled. ‘Before I put my blade in its eye!’ Odahviing responded with a huff and bared teeth, wisps of smoke escaping his nostrils.

‘Nice to see you too, Delphine,’ I called down.

‘You’re a traitor!’ she hissed. ‘Look at you, up on that red bastard’s back, practically one of _them_.’

‘I didn’t come here to listen to your bullshit, Delphine. I came here because I’m almost certain none of you want to die up here. If you like being alive, you can fly down with me, one at a time. On one condition – you join the fight against the Thalmor.’

‘Me first,’ Jenassa declared, edging around Odahviing as he watched her pass, eyes glinting. He extended his wing, and I helped pull her up, telling her to hold on tight as we took to the air again.

**********

Esbern turned out to be fairly easy to convince, but then he was always the more open-minded one. On the other hand, Delphine was waiting for us, cross-armed, when we returned, the last Blade in Sky Haven Temple.

‘I’m not getting on that thing,’ she insisted.

‘Then you’ll die,’ I said.

‘I would rather that than have to spend a single moment of my life in any physical contact with one of those beasts other than when I’m bringing it down!’

‘His name is Odahviing,’ I hissed, feeling the dragon’s muscles tense as he fought his urge to destroy this puny woman in front of him. He was close enough that he could simply bite her in half, and I was quite sure that if he did not have so much respect for me, he might have done it. ‘And he is my Grah-Zeymahzin.’

‘I don’t care what that monster is to you.’

‘One last chance, Delphine,’ I said. ‘Live and fight the people who got you into this situation in the first place. Help me, and the Jarls of Skyrim, bring the Dominion to its knees. Or die, alone, starved and miserable, in these cold stone walls.’

‘I choose death.’

I sighed. Maybe I should have respected her choice, but I wouldn’t be responsible for her demise. Besides, she wore armour. ‘Odahviing, fahdon. Haalvut ek naal hin jot.’

‘What did you say?’ Delphine demanded. ‘What did you tell it to – argh!’ She squealed as Odahviing obeyed my command and leaned forward, taking her in his teeth with surprising gentleness. Still, it didn’t look particularly comfortable to me, especially as she wouldn’t stop struggling through the short flight down, where the Blades were staring in shock, and a little morbid amusement.

‘Shit!’ she cursed as Odahviing dropped her just before landing and she thudded to the ground. It was probably a favour, really, so his teeth wouldn’t dent her armour and bruise her when we hit the ground, but she still looked up with a face of fury, drawing her sword.

‘Delphine, no!’ cried Esbern, and Borgakh lurched forward to restrain her with strong Orcish arms before she could make the mistake of lashing out at Odahviing.

‘Make your way to Whiterun,’ I told them, ignoring Delphine’s outraged bellowing. ‘Speak to Jarl Balgruuf. Enlist in his forces. Oh, and someone take my horse for me.’ I lowered my voice and leaned forward, speaking to Odahviing. ‘Bo, Zeymah. Wah Ahrolsedovah.’

We took off yet again, this time to soar away from the rocky hills of the Reach and towards the open, gold stretches of Whiterun’s plains that emerged on the horizon as we ascended. Odahviing let out a thunderous roar, and birds fled the treetops, herds of deer tearing through the valleys away from the sound. That roar resonated through my body, as much my own as it was his, just as the beating of his wings lifted my arms as though those wings were mine.

These were the times that made up for my mortal body, when I felt as I should, no longer trapped, one with the dovah I called my brother.


	3. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

In just five days, the new recruits had made better soldiers of themselves than the veterans. They stood to attention straight, wore their colours with pride, and what they lacked in skill they made up for in enthusiasm to learn. 

'Look,' I ordered the other troops, who faced the small line of young men and women who had only just been drafted in. 'In less than a week, these kids have achieved more than you sorry bastards have in nearly four decades. You should be ashamed of yourselves.' I turned to face them, hands behind my back. 'A lazy force is a useless force. A hindrance. An inconvenience on the battlefield. If you would rather sit at home listening to your wife nag you until you slowly rot away in a steaming puddle of your own piss, you're welcome to leave. But if you would rather die with honour, and join all those ancestors you brag about in Sovngarde, you've got some shaping up to do.'

Commander Caius had been little help through this whole ordeal. The man had grown fat and lazy much like his soldiers, too comfortable with the safety of Whiterun's walls. 

With the problem of Sissel still on my mind and unable to monitor her recovery, I was barely sleeping at night. At one point, I'd caught her trying to sneak out for a fix, and she'd pleaded and begged me to let her have some _just this once_. Naturally, I'd dragged her to the Temple of Kynareth, where she'd fallen unconscious after screaming the place down and not woken up for two days, when finally most of the muck seemed to be out of her system. I'd been forbidden from seeing her, as had everyone else - Danica seemed to think that the sight of her like this would be too upsetting. She was probably right. 

I rolled my eyes as I saw the Companions approaching from the stables. I'd tried to dissuade Aela from joining in the training, but she had insisted that at the very least they could help me oversee the soldiers and keep them in line. 

'Good morning,' she greeted me with a nod. 'Where shall we start?'

I deliberately avoided eye contact with Vilkas, despite an awareness of him glaring at me. 'I've been informed that all of you have a specialism in combat, is that correct?' 

'It is,' Aela answered. 'I can train them in archery. Farkas can teach them in using heavy armour efficiently, Vilkas handles two-handed weapons, Njada can instruct them in blocking, and Athis will do one-handed.' 

'Good.' I produced the list I had compiled of the recruits' names and their weaknesses. 'Rochus, Orjan, Torvald, Odila, Idun, you go with - '

'Ahem,' coughed a skinny Redguard man as he approached. 'Some of your soldiers are on my land.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'So?'

He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. 'So move them! Do you know who I am?'

'Yes, I know who you are,' I growled. 'You're that little turd Nazeem who skulks around Dragonsreach and tries to stick his tongue down the back of the Jarl's loincloth.' I heard a few of the soldiers snigger. 'I suggest you shut your mouth and go back to the Cloud District before I put a blade in your neck.' 

'Th-this is unacceptable!' Nazeem stammered. 'I'm an important member of the Jarl's court! You can't threaten me!'

'I just did,' I spat. 'Now leave.' 

'You wait until the Jarl hears about this!' Nazeem hissed as he stormed off towards the city gates. I shook my head, sighing.

'This is going to be another long day.' 

**********

When the training day finally ended and the soldiers stumbled back to the barracks, I was at my wit's end. It was late at night, I was tired, thoroughly stressed, and just wanted to sleep. But no, I had to have an unnecessary conversation with Aela and her minions before they would let me go anywhere.

'Commander,' she said, the rest of them hanging behind her like a pack of cubs following their mother. 'Will you be requiring us at every training session?'

'I don't think that's necessary,' I answered. 'You have contracts to fulfil, and I can handle the recruits alone. Not that your assistance wasn't helpful, of course.' Admittedly, it had at least provided me with some respite.

'Tomorrow almost all of us are meant to be out on contracts,' she began, glancing around awkwardly. 'Except Vilkas.'

Naturally. 'That's not a problem.' Finally, I made eye contact with him. 'You're welcome to come down if you wish.' 

He narrowed his eyes slightly. 'I will.'

'Fine.' I walked away, almost a little proud at not reacting to his presence all day, much as it pained me. No one could say I wasn't trying to be civil. 'Goodnight.'

The hike back up to the city gate always seemed longer than it actually was, especially in the stifling heat of a midsummer night, when your whole body was aching and the armour had been weighing you down since the break of dawn. 

When at last I got back to the house, everything was dark. I poked my head into the girls' room, where Sofie was fast asleep, then crept upstairs as quietly as I could manage. I discarded my armour on the floor, uncaring, and climbed into the bed. It felt so cold and huge without Eira beside me. She'd been gone for three weeks now, making deals with Reach natives and gods know what else. I hadn't heard much from her, but she was due home a day ago. That was no help to my current mountain of worries, since I was the sort to fret if she was so much as an hour late, which was more often than not the case. 

Was she hurt? In danger? Dead? The thought made me want to be sick. It was a stupid way to think. Paranoid. I was being ridiculous, and fully aware of it, but it still didn't stop me. 

Where would I start when she got home? How would I tell her about Sissel? And how would I get through my one-to-one time with Vilkas tomorrow without ending up spending a night in the dungeons?

Too many things to think about, and not enough time. Too many people to worry about, and not enough room in my head.

I turned over, and wished I could dream the wretched world away.


	4. Facing the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

We had taken a detour, by which I mean we ended up flying around most of southern Skyrim before we actually went to Whiterun. The Borderlands were one of my favourite places to fly - on a clear day, when up high enough, I could see Bruma from Falkreath, and remembered the day I'd left the Imperial City and travelled through there when Silas kicked me out. The gateway to the heartland of the Empire was a timber jewel nestled against the Jerall Mountains, beyond the winding road of the Pale Pass. We flew above Helgen, where I had been captured all those years ago, mistaken for a rebel. How did they mistake an Altmer alchemist for a Stormcloak rebel? Wrong place, wrong time. Either that, or I was simply meant to be there. After all, it's where I first saw Alduin.

By the time we flew to Whiterun, it was late morning, and I saw the faces of a legion of soldiers turn up to the sky as we descended. Ondolemar was there, barking orders, only looking when Odahviing stomped against the ground. My heart still stopped at the sight of him after long weeks apart, his eyes made crystalline by the sunlight, which cast deep valleys of shadow beneath his cheekbones. After decades of failed relationships where my interest fizzled out over time, I never thought I could be so happy after so long. Relief washed over his features as I dismounted Odahviing and rushed into his arms.

'You're late,' he scolded. 

'The Blades were stuck in Sky Haven Temple,' I explained. 'So I got them out. They're on their way to join our forces.'

He wrinkled his nose. 'What, that bitch Delphine and the crazy old man that tags along with her?' 

I chuckled. 'Yes, them, and others. The Thalmor blocked them in and left them to die.'

'Hm. I'll let you off this time then.'

'So, what have I missed?'

'Oh gods...' he muttered.

'What?' I said. 'Is something wrong?'

'You could say that,' he sighed, glancing around. 'Caius! Take over!' Commander Caius gave a nod and reluctantly parted with some poor farmer girl he was pestering as Ondolemar led me away from the training grounds. My stomach was in knots.

'So what is it?' I demanded when we stopped round the back of the stables. 

'Sissel's been taking skooma.' 

'What?' I whispered, horrified, tears coming to my eyes. 'Sissel? Skooma? By the gods...'

'I found broken bottles in her room. She's at the temple, but they've forbidden us from seeing her until she's cleansed of it.' 

'What did you do?' 

'I...' he trailed off, looking down. 'I hit her.'

'I would've done the same.' He pressed his finger and thumb into the inner corners of his eyes, exhaling, clearly holding back tears.

'I asked her why she did it. Apparently she hasn't heard from Joric for weeks, and Ysolda told her that it would help her visions or some other nonsense.'

'She did what?!' I hissed. 'I'll cut her in half!'

'Believe me, I wanted to. It's not worth it. The matter's being looked into. As if that wasn't enough, the Jarl insisted I let the Companions assist me with the training. In fact, Vilkas was supposed to be here three hours ago, but the lazy bastard hasn't showed his ugly face yet.' 

'V-Vilkas is meant to be here...on his own? With you?'

He shrugged. 'Not my choice.'

'Auriel preserve me,' I sighed. 'It seems every time I go away, I come back to a load of shit.' 

'At least you're not the here dealing with it all.' There was a bitterness in his words that made me frown. 

'I didn't want to go,' I protested. 'I was only doing what I needed to do.'

'Oh really?' He narrowed his eyes. 'Does getting a whopping five people down from a mountain make you a day and a half late, then?' 

I fixed him a glare. 'If you must know, I took a detour around the Borderlands with Odahviing.'

He folded his arms, brows lowering. 'Again?' 

'Yes, again. You...nobody else understands. I feel free up there. It's where my soul wants to be.' 

'Maybe you should get your head - and your _soul_ \- out of the clouds and focus on real life. Down here.'

That stung. He knew how much it meant to me. 'That's not fair. I'm completely aware of what needs to be done. A few hours won't shift the balance in our fight against the Dominion.'

'I wasn't talking about that,' he spat. 'You never have time for me anymore. Or the girls. We're just a sideshow now, aren't we?'

'How dare you!' I yelled. 'You are NOT just a 'sideshow'. For gods' sakes, there is work to be done and I've been doing it! Am I not allowed just a few hours of enjoyment?'

His cheeks had reddened. 'Of course you are,' he mumbled. 'I'm sorry, Eira. Everything's just been on me, and - I've missed you.'

I rested my head on his shoulder, finding myself suddenly exhausted. ‘It’s alright. I’m sorry I shouted. I missed you too.’ 

When I was with Vilkas, we didn’t really know when or how to say sorry, and as a result, our arguments had spanned weeks before we would sweep them under the carpet, repressing how we felt, and never resolving anything. Unlike Vilkas, Ondolemar refused to go to bed on an argument, and would rather have a verbal duel all night than pretend everything was fine.

‘I’m going to find Sofie,’ I said. ‘Good luck with the training.’

He kissed my forehead softly. ‘See you later.’

Maybe it did help that he was one of my own kind. We understood each other culturally – Vilkas had never appreciated why I had to have the little things a certain way, like the house being spotless, or the table been laid in a certain order, or the plants being watered at a precise moment of each evening, among my other various routines. It was the way we were – raised to exact timings, every detail of our lives planned out from before we were even conceived, with selective partnerships that mapped out our potential features, right up until the day we would marry, and who we would be engaged to, and what we would do for a living. The strict grasp that Altmer parents had on their children was almost military, so it was no wonder so many of us joined the Thalmor. The environment wasn’t all that different from home. Leaving the Thalmor had been a time of turmoil in my life, because it removed me from all I had ever known. The freedom was so alien, being totally unused to having choices, and suddenly I could go wherever I wanted. I would sit up at night crying, not knowing who I was, wishing I was dead. Eventually I adapted, but it took me years.

With an upbringing like that, it was no wonder Ondolemar was so stressed about having to include the Companions, upsetting his daily schedule, and why he was angry at Vilkas for being late. I could only pray it wouldn’t kick off.

As if on cue, I nearly collided with my ex-husband on my way up to the gates. He drank in the sight of me, something flickering in his eyes, and I frowned.

‘Morning,’ I drawled. ‘Ondolemar was wondering where you were.’

‘Was he now? I do hope I haven’t upset him.’ He hadn’t even tried to conceal the sarcasm. I rolled my eyes. 

‘Don’t flatter yourself. If you don’t want to be around him, go back to Jorrvaskr.’

‘I told Aela I would do it,’ he replied. ‘And a promise is a promise. Not that you’d know.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I hissed.

‘Oh, you know…’as long as you both shall live’, all that rubbish.’

‘What are you bringing that up for, as if you care about anything but yourself?’ I snapped. ‘The only thing I damaged when I left you was your pride. That’s what you can’t stand, not the end of the marriage, but everyone else knowing you’re a cuckold.’

‘That’s not true,’ Vilkas growled. ‘You broke my heart.’

‘And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. Do you think when I married you I set out to hurt either of us? No, I didn’t. But we were doomed from the start, basing a marriage off a mere attraction, barely even knowing each other, let alone knowing how completely incompatible we are.’

‘Are we incompatible? Or did you just not give us time to work it out, hm?’ He was messing with my head now, and I knew it. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever know now.’

‘Shut up. Stop resenting me for finally finding happiness. I deserve it after all I’ve done for this world, after all I’m still doing.’

‘Always a high opinion of yourself, my dear, like the arrogant elven strumpet you are.’

‘One more word and I’ll cut you dick to throat,’ I snarled, grabbing him and pushing him against the wall. ‘I saved this whole world from enslavement and destruction. I am the most powerful mortal being in Tamriel, and you dare call me a strumpet?’

‘You want some rough house?’ He was grinning, flirting with me, winding me up. Why was I even letting him get into my head like this? Why didn’t I walk past him without a word?

Because, once upon a time, he had still been the object of my love.

‘Do me a favour and let one of those soldiers gut you,’ I said, marching away, my anger making my heart race. I wanted to Shout him to pieces, claw his eyes out, consume him in fire. This is what he wanted, I reminded myself. He wanted me to flip, to breathe fire, to try and tear him apart, because then I would be the one in the wrong, I would go to prison for murder, be shamed and stripped of my hard-won nobility, made to pay thousands in compensation, lose my estates. Vilkas wanted to destroy me.

Taking a deep breath, I walked through the city gates, and headed home.


	5. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

That pig-headed oaf finally turned up just after Eira left, a smug grin on his face. I eyed him suspiciously as he approached the training grounds, folding my arms.

‘In future,’ I barked. ‘Either turn up on time or not at all.’

‘Apologies,’ he said, his childish smirk doing nothing to conceal his insincerity. ‘How’s Sissel?’ My face must have betrayed the mix of anger, surprise and hatred that welled up in me at his words. 'Oh, news travels around Whiterun fast. Those sickly farmers are terrible gossips.'

'It's none of your business,' I snapped. 

Vilkas gave a shrug of infuriating pretend innocence. 'Sissel was my daughter once, you know. I'm only concerned for her wellbeing.'

'Don't you dare act like you ever cared about her!' I snarled.

'Of course I _cared_ ,' he spat, his attempt at taunting me vanishing. 

'She never seemed to think so. That poor child clung to me because you never bothered with her. She didn't fit your idea of what a Nord girl should be like, so you smothered Sofie in your affections, then ended up screwing her over and rejected her too!'

'I made every effort to include Sofie in the Companions!' Vilkas protested. 'And all because we wouldn't let some beggar girl into our mead hall, she threw a tantrum and left!'

'That beggar girl was eight months pregnant, had been told by the father to terminate, and was living on leftovers scraped from the plates of the Bannered Mare's patrons. Is it any wonder Sofie didn't want to be associated with the kind of people who would turn a vulnerable young woman back out on the streets?'

'It was Aela's decision, not mine.'

I laughed coldly. 'Always quick to shift the blame onto someone else, aren't you? Aela kicked that girl out, it wasn't _your_ choice. Sofie alienated herself, _you_ never pushed her to it. I stole your wife, _you_ didn't neglect her.' 

'You did steal my wife!'

My turn to do the mocking, I thought, grinning. 'Fine, I robbed you. That's what happens when you leave doors open. Your marriage was something of an open door.' I loomed over him, lowering my voice. 'By the gods, Vilkas. You married the Dragonborn, possibly the most powerful person in Tamriel, blessed by Auriel, and you fucked it up.'

He was starting to shake with rage. 'Fight me.'

'What?'

'I said fight me!' he yelled. I raised my eyebrows.

'I'm not going to have a fight with an imbecile like you in front of my men,' I answered, wary of the soldiers watching, their attention captured by the fool's shouting. Caius had given up trying to focus them and joined them in watching Vilkas and I, the low hiss of their excited whispers rising from the crowd they formed.

'Scared? Worried I'll beat you to a pulp?'

'Knock that bastard through the ground, Commander!' someone called, most unhelpfully. 

'Fight!' another voice encouraged. 

'No,' I refused. 'Vilkas, it's about time you left.'

'I'm not going anywhere. Not until you grow some balls and fight me.'

'If you lay a finger on me,' I warned. 'I'll have you in the dungeons for a month.'

'Coward!' Vilkas bellowed. 'Milk-drinker! You call yourself a Commander of Whiterun's army?' I'd heard enough. He wanted a fight? Let him have one. 'You have about as much courage as - '

His nose cracked and cruched against my knuckles as I lashed out. He stumbled, letting out a cry, clutching his bloodied face. The crowd of soldiers cheered as I kicked him in the guts, and he lurched forward, swinging for me, catching me on the jaw. I felt the bone break and winced, but kicked him again. He tensed, stumbling back but not falling, then charged at me, tackling me to the ground. Sparks exploded in my vision when my head smacked against the dried, cracked earth. He tried to smash my head down a second time, so I grabbed his throat and gripped as hard as I could. He choked and spluttered, his face losing colour as I found the strength to push him down against the ground. By this stage the sound of the soldiers had faded away. I was seeing red, consumed by fury at this wretch, only aware of my hands around his neck, watching his eyes widen, as if pleading, but only pushing down harder as he writhed and kicked to try and free himself.

Eventually, I was pulled off him by Skulvar the stable owner and Caius. Vilkas rolled over onto his side and coughed, wheezing, then vomited onto the ground. 

'Are you mad?!' Skulvar cried. I was shaking with anger. I wanted to kill him, and I wanted to kill them for stopping me.

'Commander,' Caius said gently. 'Calm down. This has gone too far.' I was still staring at Vilkas, who some of the soldiers were trying to help, sitting him up against a stone as he gasped for breath.

'You,' Skulvar said to one of them. 'Go get Danica Pure-Spring. Oh, and Thane Eira too.'

**********

I was no longer in my trance by the time the soldier returned with Danica and Eira. Vilkas was still struggling to breathe, bruises already forming and his nose bloodied and broken, and my jaw was swelling up where it had smashed. Danica went straight to Vilkas' side, and Eira glared at me.

'What in Oblivion's name have you done, Ondolemar?!' she hissed. 'Of all the stupid ways to behave, you got into a fight with THAT lowlife?'

'He started it!' I growled.

Eira shook her head in disbelief. 'You can just about shut your mouth if you're going to say something like that.' She grabbed my hand roughly and channeled a reluctant healing spell through it. 'I come home to a daughter who's on drugs, you can't cope with your job, and now you've nearly killed my ex-husband! And you wonder, _you wonder_ why I take the detour routes home!'

'He asked me for a fight.' The pain and swelling was subsiding, and now I just felt stupid for letting him draw me in. 'And I foolishly let him get the better of me.'

'Foolishly indeed. Needless to say, the Jarl is furious. Leave that idiot here and come up to Dragonsreach.' She pulled me up and practically dragged me back towards the city, to where either imprisonment or the stripping of my title surely awaited. Maybe both. 

'This,' Eira sighed. 'Is just about all I can handle.'


	6. Caged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

'I expected better of you,' Balgruuf growled as Ondolemar stood before him in Dragonsreach. 'When I put someone in charge of my army, and soon to be the armies of my neighouring holds, I don't expect to hear about them fighting anywhere in my city, but least of all in front of the men they're supposed to be setting an example for!'

'I let myself be drawn into it by some petty personal comments made against me,' Ondolemar said. 'I completely accept responsibility for what happened, and I can only apologise sincerely for my own lack of self-control.'

Balgruuf huffed. 'Count yourself lucky that you're indispensable, Commander. If it were Caius, he'd be out of a job. Regardless, I cannot let you go unpunished. Ah, here comes the other culprit.'

Admittedly, I thought Ondolemar handled the situation well, with dignity, remorse and grace. By contrast, Vilkas was struggling against the grip of the guards who escorted him.

'Get off me,' he grumbled, shrugging their hands off him as he drew level with us. 

'Vilkas,' Balgruuf sighed. 'Do you claim to be innocent or guilty?'

'The only thing I'm guilty of is defending my own honour!' Vilkas argued. 'Jarl, fights happen every day in Whiterun. They're not a punishable offence!'

'Assaulting a figure of authority is an offence,' Balgruuf retorted. 'And Ondolemar is a figure of authority.'

'He threw the first punch.' 

'Is that true?' Balgruuf asked Ondolemar.

'It is,' he admitted. 

'Why did you do it?'

'He challenged me to fight him, then insulted me when I refused. My pride got in the way of my sense.' 

'Thane Eira,' Balgruuf said. 'What's your stance on this?'

'She's biased!' Vilkas hissed.

'Be quiet.' 

'It takes two to fight, my lord,' I answered. 

'Indeed it does,’ he agreed. ‘Very well. You’ll both spend the night in the dungeons. Guards, take them to the cells.’

‘Talos preserve me,’ Vilkas grumbled.

‘There’s only one cell available, my lord,’ the guard said.

Balgruuf raised his eyebrows. ‘Fine. Put them in together.’

‘You can’t be serious!’ Vilkas protested as the guards grabbed hold of him again. ‘I’m not sharing a cell with _him_!’

‘It’s either that, or you share with that bandit you apprehended for me the other day,’ Balgruuf said. ‘I’m sure he’d love to chat with you, hm?’

‘Ugh, fine. See if I care anyway.’

Ondolemar was compliant as two guards held on to his arms, looking at me. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘See you in the morning,’ I sighed. The guards took them away, and I rolled my eyes, my arms folded.

‘Look at it this way, old friend,’ Balgruuf said. ‘Men fight over you.’

I tutted. ‘I’m sick of people fighting over me. Lovers, enemies, bloody dragons. I’m not a prize for them to win. Anyway, I'd better go demand entrance to the Temple of Kynareth.'

'Ah, yes. Your daughter. Rest assured, Ysolda is under investigation for supplying that filth.'

'Thank you, Balgruuf,' I said, offering him a smile as I turned away and headed out of Dragonsreach, my head reeling with thoughts.

Vilkas really was out to destroy me. First flirting with me and messing with my head, then fighting with my fiancé, and now they would be spending the night stuck in the same cell together. The worst thing I could do was let him come between Ondolemar and I, but it was hard not to be angry. Paarthurnax would tell me to meditate, but what I wanted to do was Shout, tear the bones of Nirn out of the ground, call storms to ravage the skies, run like the wind, set myself adrift on the currents of time.

Breath and focus.

When the dragon clawed at her cage, I had to restrain her. Sometimes I felt like part of me was trying to tear this mortal skin away and reveal some glorious, scaled hide that wasn't there. All that was beneath this elven complexion was the flesh and bones of a mortal being, not the claws and teeth I desired for blades, or the sky-shattering roar that my flimsy throat would never muster, or the wings I wished could carry me away. 

It had dawned on me about a year after arriving at the College that my adventuring days were over. No more roaming Tamriel freely, no more hitting the road with nothing but a map, a purse and bottle of ale and making my home wherever I laid my head. It was gutting. When I'd first got my freedom, I'd rejected it, didn't know what to do with it, had to rely on Thaduin to keep me sane. Then it was gone again after all these years - I was tied to titles, estates, conflicts, friends and foes, family, lovers, tied to rigid walls and rigid people with whom I had rigid relationships. Living in a box. A cage.

Was I happy, or not? Was this what I wanted? Was I lying to myself? Should I have adopted two children? Should I have ever gotten married, and should I be attempting it again?

Should I have let Alduin kill me?

No. This was him. The bastard had gotten into my head and planted the seed of these thoughts when he brought back the past. My adventuring was not over yet - I had a new beast to conquer. The Dominion would shatter at the sound of my Voice as I heralded the fury of the world. Once that was done, I had a life to live, two daughters nearly full grown women, both in love, both with valuable skills. And yes, Ondolemar made me happy beyond what words could express. He was just a fool. We're all fools.

Grounded, I reached the temple. The doors were locked when I tried them, and I banged on them with my fist, waiting. A slot in the doorway opened and Jenssen's eyes peered out.

'I'm sorry, you're not allowed in,' he said.

'Yes I am. You're going to open these doors and let me see my daughter.'

'I can't. She needs rest.'

'And she'll get it. I want five minutes with her, nothing more. Let me in.'

'No.'

'LET ME IN!' I screeched, and I heard a commotion beyond the door. Jenssen disappeared and instead Danica looked out at me.

'I already forbade Ondolemar from coming in,' she explained. 'And Sofie, Vindar, and everyone else. Sissel is getting better, but she needs sleep and food. She couldn't eat...she's wasted away.'

'I just want to see her,' I pleaded. 'Just for a few minutes.' 

Danica sighed. 'Alright. Only because you saved the Gildergreen.' The lock clicked and the doors swung open, revealing the light, airy courtyard. 

When I saw Sissel laying there, I understood why they hadn't let anyone in. She was bone-thin and pale as snow, her eyes vacant and staring up at the roof, drenched in sweat. If it weren't for her trembling, I'd have thought her dead. I choked on a sob as I approached her side.

'Sissel?' I whispered. Her eyes slid to me, and suddenly I wondered if me being here would only make her worse from the shame of me seeing her like this. 'Oh, what have you gotten yourself into, my dear?' 

I took her hand between both of mine, and a croaking noise came out of her throat. 'W-w-when d-did you get b-back?' she rasped.

'Not too long ago.' I wouldn't tell her what had happened, not here, not now. 

'The...the s-sk-skooma - '

'It doesn't matter now,' I told her. 'What matters is that you're getting better.' Not that she looked like she was. I'd seen draugr with more flesh on their bones.

'Eira,' Danica said gently. 'I'm sorry, I need to ask you to leave now.'

I nodded, then leaned down and placed a kiss on Sissel's head, squeezing her hand. 'You'll be home soon, little one. I love you.'

I didn't wait for her to struggle to formulate a reply before I turned away, letting my tears flow once I was out of her sight, and quietly thanking Danica for letting me in.

Outside the temple, I clung to a bench by the Gildergreen, and sobbed.


	7. Enemies Kept Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

'Stop staring at me,' I hissed at Vilkas, who had pulled the old, shabby furs he was meant to sleep on into the corner of the room, as far away from me as possible.

'I'm not,' he rasped, the injuries to his throat apparent from his wheezing voice and the black bruises that had formed on his neck. I didn't feel bad one bit.

'I can see you staring at me.'

'If you can see me staring at you, that means you're staring at me too.'

'Do you have any idea what a stupid argument that is?'

'Not as stupid as your hypocrisy.'

'Pipe down in there!' one of the guards ordered as he passed our cell. For a moment we fell into silence. I wished they would at least give me something to read. Anything to do but look at Vilkas' ugly face.

'I didn't think you'd do it,' said Vilkas.

'What?' I drawled.

'Fight me.'

'Well I did it, and I won.'

'You didn't win! You tried to murder me!'

'Shame I didn't succeed.'

'Having a fight isn't about trying to kill someone, idiot.'

'I wouldn't know, you see, because I'm not an uncivilised, disgusting beast like you. I don't rely on violence to solve every petty conflict I have.'

'Didn't look that way when you were strangling the life out of me.'

'You deserved it.' 

'Eira spoke to me on her way to the gates this morning.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'Good for you.' 

'You're not jealous?' There was an infuriating tone of mockery in his voice.

'No. Why should I be?'

'She had me pushed up against a wall.'

'Oh, gods, now what will I do?' I gasped sarcastically. 'However can I forgive such a grievous betrayal? Tell me, Vilkas, was she by any chance holding a knife to your throat?'

'No, actually. She apologised to me for breaking my heart and said she never intended to hurt me.'

'That was nice of her.' Inside, nauseating jealousy was taking hold of me, but there was no chance I'd let it show, not in front of him. I could see the disappointment in his eyes at my apparent indifference. 

'Hmph. Whatever. Don't say I didn't try to warn you.' He shifted around in the shadows for a moment, then fell silent.

Before long, I discovered that Vilkas was a heavy snorer. The sparseness of the room made the horrible sound echo, and even the guards glanced in the cell, annoyed, catching my eye after glaring at him with disapproval.

'Wake him up,' one of the guards on patrol told me as she walked past. 'Tell him to stop making that racket.'

'No.' 

'I said wake him up!' she hissed. I raised an eyebrow at her.

'If you let me out, I'll wake him up.'

'Pah! Nice try, scum.'

'Don't call me that,' I snapped. 'Don't you dare talk down to me.'

'Whatcha gonna do, cry?'

'No,' I hissed. 'When I get out of here in the morning and resume my position as commander of Whiterun's armies, I'll have you conscripted.' I couldn't see her face beneath the helmet, but she went very still. 'If you don't fancy fighting legions of Aldmeri soldiers, I'd suggest keeping your mouth shut.' 

'Ah...sorry, Commander. Didn't realise it was you. Sir.'

I huffed. 'There are only three high elves in all of Whiterun, and one of those is female, the other is a youth, and that leaves only me. Don't try and pretend you didn't know who I was, fool.' 

The guard simply walked away, having nothing to say in response. Good, I thought to myself, leaning my head against the damp grey bricks of the cell. I closed my eyes, but that only seemed to amplify the sound of Vilkas snoring. I picked up a wooden plate that sat beside the pile of hay and furs I sat on and lobbed it at Vilkas' sleeping figure. 

'Ouch,' he grunted, waking. 'What in Oblivion did you do that for?'

'You snore like a pig.'

Vilkas glared at me. 'Did Eira not warn you?' he spat. 'After all, she spent many nights at my side.'

'Obviously.'

'With no clothes on.'

'I'm well aware.' And seething. Furious. I wanted to rip him apart for even putting the thought of her with him into my head. Vilkas sat up, probably to rise to his own challenge to make me crack, and I wished I'd let him snore.

'I remember the last night I ever spent with her,' he said. 'Before she got that drunken letter you sent her.' He paused for a moment, as if waiting for me to react, but I stared ahead, trying to block it out. 'We put the wedding sheets out on the bed again. Or rather, she did. She told me that night that she wanted us to...reconnect. We certainly did.'

'Clearly not, or she wouldn't have come running straight to me as soon as she learned of my location.' If we weren't in this cell, if we were anywhere but here, away from prying eyes, I'd have battered his skull in by now. 

He didn't respond to my remark. 'She's wonderful at lovemaking, don't you think? The body of a goddess. Soft skin, shapely thighs, generous breasts...'

'I know what you're trying to do.' 

Vilkas shrugged. 'I'm not trying to do anything beyond have a conversation.'

'Shut your mouth and go back to sleep.'

'Oh, I can't. My snoring will annoy you. I wouldn't make you listen to that all night.'

'I still have this wooden spoon that I could gouge your eyes out with, you know.'

'And then you'll spend a lot longer in this cell.' 

'It'll be worth it if you can never look at Eira again.' There. I'd let it slip. His responding grin said it all - he'd got the better of me in the end. He'd won.

'That wouldn't stop me touching her though, would it?'

'One more word,' I hissed. 'And I'll finish what I started. One more word, and you're a dead man.'

'You can't hide jealousy for long,' he said. 'It's always the way. You know how many other lovers Eira's had? And how many she promised herself to? You and I, we're not so different. She'll grow bored of you, like she grows bored of us all.'

'I'm growing bored of your bullshit. Shut up and go to sleep.'


	8. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

A knock sounded at the door early the following morning. Vindar was standing there when I opened it, the eagerness obvious in his eyes. I smiled knowingly - he rarely came to the house directly for fear of having to encounter Ondolemar and be lectured on treating Sofie with propriety and respect. As if he had it in him anyway. Clearly, he'd heard about the fight.

'Hello, Vindar,' I greeted. 'Here for Sofie?'

'Um...yes. If that's alright with you. Ma'am.' He shifted, folding his hands behind his back awkwardly. 

'Oh, drop the formality,' I said, waving a hand and standing back to let him in. 'It's only me. I'm guessing you heard about Ondolemar having to spend a night in the dungeons?'

'Well...yes. I, er, did. Unfortunate.'

'Not for you,' I pointed out, closing the door behind him. 'It means you can come here without being chased out of a three mile radius of my daughter. She's not actually up yet, but you'd better clear out of here quickly, before my foolish husband-to-be is released.' 

'Would you...would you please wake her?'

'Why don't you do it?'

'I'm allowed in her room?'

I sighed. 'You're trying my patience now, boy. Go and wake her up and get out of my house before you cause trouble.'

He practically ran towards the door at the back and shut himself in. I shook my head, continuing with the sweeping, pushing a strand of hair out of my face.

'Morning Lydia,' I called as the thudding of steel boots sounded on the stairs. 

'Good morning,' she chirped. 

'Would you mind heading to Arcadia's Cauldron for me today?' I asked her. 

'No problem,' she answered. 'What do you need?'

'Canis root, blue mountain flower and briar hearts,' I said. 'As much as she has. If she doesn't have the briar hearts, get some swamp fungal pods.'

'Alright, I'll go now - I need to get food anyway.'

'See you later,' I called to her as she marched out of the front door. I leaned the broom against the wall, surveying my work. Still the upstairs to sweep, and the pantry to sort, the bookshelves to dust and tidy. Normally, Sofie and Sissel did the chores, but Sofie was too busy being smitten with that awkward boy, and Sissel...well, she was laying in the temple, detoxing from skooma.

It was no wonder it had got to this stage - I'd been away for three weeks, Ondolemar was always at the training ground, and Sofie was always out with Vindar or Lucia. Poor Sissel had been lonely, and with no word from Joric, she must have been desperate, willing to do anything to hear from him. Perhaps I would go to Morthal and investigate myself. It would be worth it if it helped my daughter.

The door opened, and in came Ondolemar, his eyes ringed with black circles, a face like thunder. I raised my eyebrows and rested my hands on my hips, and silently prayed he wouldn't try to get into Sofie and Sissel's room, where Vindar was still lurking.

'Nice night?' I said. He scowled.

'I should have ripped that man's throat out when I had the chance,' he grumbled.

'Why? What did he say to you?'

He was giving me _that_ look. The look he gave people when he wanted them to know he was shocked, offended and ready to pounce on them. 

'Tell me,' he began. 'When were you planning on mentioning that little conversation you had with him outside the city gates?'

'For gods' sakes,' I hissed. 'I never had the chance, since you got yourself arrested. All I did was say I was sorry for any hurt I caused him.'

'And you pushed him up against the wall.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Yes, when he called me a strumpet, and so I threatened to cut him dick to throat.'

Ondolemar narrowed his eyes. 'I see.'

'Do you?' I huffed. 'He's trying to get the better of us both, you know, and so far he's doing a good job of it. Stop letting him get to you.' 

'Ugh, you're right,' he sighed, rubbing at his eyes. 'Needless to say, I never want to spend another minute near him ever again.' 

I crossed over to him and wrapped him in my embrace, planting a kiss on his cheek. 'Silly.' 

'Did anything noteworthy happen in my absence?' 

'I went to see Sissel,' I said, remembering that horrifying moment when I saw how thin and pale she'd become. 

'Oh,' he murmured. 'How is she?'

My eyes were threatening to shed tears, and I steeled myself, pressing my lips into a thin line. 'She looked awful. She's wasted away, can't talk properly, just lays there shaking.' 

Ondolemar shook his head. 'If I find out Joric is alive and well and has no good reason to cut her off, we'll be having to find a replacement Jarl for Hjaalmarch too.'

'I might go there,' I said. 'See what's going on. For all we know, there could be trouble in Morthal.'

'There's always trouble in Morthal,' Ondolemar remarked, blinking hard.

'Why don't you go and sleep?'

'I can't. Training.'

'Caius can manage without you for the morning at least. Go and get some rest. I'll take the blame.' I ushered him towards the stairs. 'I'll make you something to eat soon, too.'

'Look at you, sweeping up, cooking and letting me sit on my backside,' he said. 'I hope you're not going to turn into some dull nagging housewife.' 

'Ha! That would be something of an anticlimax to my legend.' I squeezed his hand. 'I'll have you know I can slay dragons _and_ sweep floors.'

He chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on my lips before disappearing upstairs. I waited until I heard the bedroom door shut before I cracked open the door to Sofie's room.

'Coast is clear,' I whispered, smiling as they dashed past, Vindar glancing warily up the stairs whilst Sofie gave me a cheery wave and they vanished outside. 

I glanced around the house, sighing. First, the bookshelves. Then I would go and ask Danica how Sissel was, find Ysolda and threaten to kick her head in if she so much as thought about going near my girls again, then finally I would sit down with a good book, alone.


	9. Auxiliary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Afternoon had taken hold of Whiterun by the time I emerged from Breezehome, shielding my groggy eyes from the golden light of the sun. I hadn't felt this tired since drinking Eira under the table in Ivarstead all those years ago.

Vilkas had eventually gone to sleep, and proceeded to snore as before. I might have faded in and out of consciousness for a while, but I certainly hadn't slept for more than an hour at a time. When dawn had come and they had released us, I disappeared whilst they were waking Vilkas up so as to avoid having to speak to him again. 

Heading down to the training grounds, armoured, bleary-eyed and impatient, I found the Companions already there. Aela marched up to me, scowling.

'What happened yesterday?' she demanded, folding her arms.

'Vilkas was stupid enough to challenge me to a fight,' I answered. 'And I was stupid enough to accept. Does that answer your question?'

'You tried to murder my shield-brother.'

'No, I tried to strangle him. Death is just a side-effect of being strangled.'

'Cut the snark,' she hissed. 'If you ever try to harm one of my shield-siblings again, I'll demand a blood price in addition to your jail sentence.'

I shrugged. 'Go for it. I have gold enough to spare. Question is, how much is Vilkas worth?'

She made a small sound of disbelief. 'Just...keep your hands off the Companions. We're a respected order in Whiterun, the people will support us against you.'

'More respected than the Dragonborn and her kin? You're nothing more than soldiers of fortune.'

'Don't use Eira to defend your actions,' Aela snapped. 'She doesn't deserve that. You know, she could do a thousand times better than you. I don't know what in Hircine's name she sees in someone like you!'

'Now now, no need to get personal,' I purred, leaning down to her eye level. 'Remember who's in charge on this field. If I desire, I can have you in the stocks for poor conduct and disobedience.'

'You bastard!'

'Tsh,' I hushed her. 'One more word, _Harbinger_.'

She turned and stormed away, muttering something about telling Eira as she went. I smirked at my work as she raged, shoving a bow at one of the recruits and barking at them to shoot at the targets. 

'Commander,' said Caius, approaching from my left. 'I was wondering if you'd be down today after the...incident.' 

'A morning is long enough to recover,' I said. 

'Are you sure? You still look tired.'

'Thank you for your concern, Caius, but I'll manage.'

'Alright then. There's a dozen or so blade, mace and axe recruits who I think are ready, but I need you to assess them before they can be accepted as auxiliaries.'

'Round them up,' I instructed. 'Separate them from the others, and I'll put them to the test.'

Caius produced the list I had drawn up, now covered in his own irritatingly untidy markings, and wandered over to a clear area of the training ground. I followed as he called out the names. I counted thirteen recruits, a mix of men and women, as they gathered in front of us, standing to attention.

'Commander Caius tells me that you are all ready for your final assessment,' I addressed them. 'With our goal considered, and with the approval of the Jarl, we have decided that your task should be to defeat a trained Aldmeri soldier in single combat. Me.' 

I watched as they glanced between each other, shifting uncomfortably. 'Sir,' one said, raising his hand. 'Permission to speak, sir.'

'Granted.'

'Can you clarify what you mean by 'defeat', sir?'

'By defeat I mean you have to knock me to the ground,' I explained. 'Once you can knock an opponent to the ground, they are at your mercy. That is what you will have to do to me to complete your training. Now, any volunteers for who goes first?' Silence. I narrowed my eyes. 'Very well. Jolenta, you're up.'

The young Imperial woman stepped forward. Caius handed her one of the wooden training poles, and another to me. I could tell before she even adopted her stance that she would fail - there was nothing wrong with her posture, or the way she held the pole, but her eyes betrayed fear, and fear betrays a soldier to death. 

As she lunged forward in a feeble attempt to land a blow, I disarmed her in one swift stroke and jabbed her in the stomach, making her double over, then kicked her to the dust, shaking my head.

'If this pole were a blade, your guts would be spilling on the ground in front of me!' I barked. 'Now get up, go and see Njada, and learn how to defend yourself. Next!' 

**********

Most of them were useless. A few showed a little promise, managing to at least deliver a blow or two and give me a few bruises, but nonetheless couldn't knock me down. I'd saved the two most promising recruits, Magge and Hearst, until last.

'You two have the best chance,' I told them. 'You have consistently upheld the values I have taught you, and shown skill, tactical abilities and strength throughout the training process. If anyone can prove their worth today, and make their ancestors proud, it's you two. Hearst, you first.'

He came forward and adopted the proper stance, then our poles splintered as they smashed together. I was taken aback at the force of the strike, and he used that to his advantage, swirling the pole around and hitting me under the ribs. I grimaced, driving forward, landing a blow on his shoulder. He grunted, knees buckling, and I struck him square in the chest, winding him. He toppled over, visibly distressed and angry at himself.

'Disappointing,' I said. 'You need to be aware of where you are, where your weapon is, where I am, and where my weapon is, all at once. Your stance is fine, your movements are perfect, your tactics are good, but without focus, none of that matters. Try again tomorrow.' He trudged away, his head hanging low. 'Magge, your turn.' 

My last hope at getting at least one qualified auxiliary to help me with the training process, Magge readied her weapon. Rather than doing as the others had done and trying to meet my blow, she ducked, taking advantage of her short stature, and smashed her pole against my side. I staggered, my attention diverted, unable to strike her on the arm as I had planned. Instead, she jabbed me in the guts, once, twice, three times, then swept her pole around the back of my legs. I crashed to the dust, swearing.

'Uh...are you alright, Commander?' Magge asked uncertainly as I tried to get to my feet again, clutching my stomach.

'Ouch - yes - I'm fine - ugh - Caius, help me up.' My colleague offered me a hand and pulled me off the ground. 'Good work, soldier.'

Caius stepped towards her, bringing his hand onto her shoulder and grinning. 'Welcome to the Legion of Whiterun, auxiliary. We'll update your title in our records immediately. For now, you've earned a rest.'

'Here,' I said, offering her a handful of septims. 'Get a drink on me. For being one less pain in the backside for me to deal with.'

Magge beamed and saluted me. 'Thank you, Sir.'

I caught Caius' eye. 'One down, several hundred to go.'


	10. Morthal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV
> 
> Spinning Gold reached 1000 hits today :D thanks to everyone who has read this series, left kudos, subscribed and left comments

The journey to Morthal always seemed to take forever by carriage, but since the Blades hadn't yet shown up with my horse, I had little choice. 

We'd left Whiterun late morning, after I'd seen Sissel and relaxed for a while, and by early evening we were trundling through Rorikstead. I glanced over to Lemkil's house. The roof had been repaired with fresh thatch and new panels where needed. The farm was full of fresh crops - someone was living there. I halted the driver and asked him to wait, sliding down from the back of the carriage and running up to the small cottage.

A young woman of around seventeen or eighteen opened the door, her tawny hair falling about her face. I recognised her instantly, from those dark eyes that glinted strangely as they glared at me.

'You,' hissed Britte. 'What do you want?'

'I..' What did I want? 'I was wondering if you had managed to get out of the orphanage. I see you have.'

'No thanks to you,' she spat. 'How could you take _her_ and not me? She loved it, didn't she? Special little Sissel, always so full of herself because she could do a few magic tricks. Tell me, how is my wretched sister?'

'Sissel is well,' I lied, opting not to tell her about the skooma. 'She studied for seven years at the College of Winterhold, has trained her gift for clairvoyance, and is courting the Jarl of Morthal.' 

'Very nice,' Britte grumbled. 'What a life she must have under your care. You know, people whisper about me behind my back. They did it in Riften, and they do it here. I'm as famous as the rest of you as the twin who got rejected, the one who the Dragonborn didn't want. So thanks for that.'

'I'm sorry,' I said. 'But you were a cruel child, Britte.'

'Cruel? No, just desperately trying to cope with an abusive environment. I learned that when I met other people like me in the Thieves Guild.'

'You joined the Thieves Guild? Then why are you here?'

'Because I got myself with child,' she muttered, her hand going to her belly. 'But...I lost it anyway.'

'Oh gods...I'm so sorry to hear that.'

'No, you're not,' she snapped. 'Anyway, I should have stayed. I had a warm bed, friends, good work, plenty of money, all the wine and men I wanted. Instead I'm stuck back here in my Da's old farmhouse.' 

'If you ever visit Whiterun, I'm sure Sissel would be happy to see you.'

'Pah. I think I'll pass. I'm going now, bye.' With that she shut the door in my face, sawdust streaking down from the roof. I turned and strode back towards the carriage, guilt curdling in my stomach. Perhaps it had been wrong to take Sissel without taking Britte. It was too late now.

The driver tapped the horse's rear and we set off again. 

**********

Morthal appeared perfectly normal when we arrived at last. I jumped down from the carriage and headed straight for Highmoon Hall, where the guards crossed their blades in front of me.

'The Jarl isn't taking visitors,' one said.

'Don't you know who I am?' I snapped. 'I am, for one, a Thane of this court. Now let me in this instant.' 

'Fine. On your head be it.'

'What do you mean by that?' 

'Let's just say his lordship has an old friend visiting.'

I ignored their stupid comments and stormed into the hall, stopping dead at the sight of Joric in deep conversation with a tall, dark-haired woman. They both turned to look at me as I entered, and I saw the woman's eyes flash with an amber sheen I recognised from my time with the Dawnguard.

'Thane Eira,' Joric said, getting to his feet. 'What brings you here?'

'Is that...is that I-Idgrod?!' I stammered. The woman stood and smiled.

'It is,' she said. 

'You're a vampire!'

Joric massaged his temples. 'She turned up here a while ago. I haven't left Highmoon Hall in weeks because the whole town is petrified that I've been turned into a vampire. Which I haven't.'

'Why haven't you been in contact with Sissel?' I demanded. 

Joric gestured to his older sister. 'Because of all this happening! Believe me, if I'd had the time or the energy, I'd have spoken to her every night.'

'She was distraught with worry!' I hissed. 'She...she did something stupid, worrying that it was her who was being unreceptive.'

'What?' His eyes widened with concern. 'Is she alright?'

'She's in good hands. We won't go into it now. Just tell me what in Oblivion is happening here.' I turned to Idgrod. 'I thought you'd been kidnapped.'

'Not quite,' she began. 'I went with Alrik willingly. I knew what he was, and what he was going to do to me, and I wanted that. I wanted eternal life, power, and I wanted him. I loved him.'

'So what changed? Why are you here?'

'Alrik was killed,' she whispered. 'By rivals. I escaped, lived alone for a while in a shack in the woods near Falkreath. When I heard our parents had been killed, I came straight here.'

'And now the whole of Morthal thinks you're all corrupt and is trying to exile you?' I said. Joric nodded. 'Then Idgrod has to leave.'

'No!' he protested. 'I've just got my sister back after all these years. I'm not letting the stupid superstitious rabble in this town kick either of us out.'

'That 'superstitious rabble' is your citizens, Joric. You have a duty to them.' 

'Joric, she's right,' Idgrod said. 'I only really came to see that you were alright anyway. I never intended to stay until you invited me.'

'But where will you go? It isn't safe for you out there.'

'Either back to Falkreath, or maybe I'll make a new life in one of the cities. Of course, I'll have to change my name and move along every fifteen years or so, but I'll get by. I'll write to you.'

'I wish it didn't have to be like this.'

'I know. But it does.' She leaned down and kissed him on the head. 'I'll write to you as soon as I'm settled, little brother.'

'Farewell, Idgrod,' Joric murmured as she walked away, sneaking out into the dark of the evening. He sighed and looked at me. 'What's wrong with Sissel?'

'She took skooma,' I explained, watching his lips part in horror. 'Lots of it. Some dealer in town told her it would make her visions more potent. She feared you were dead.' 

'Gods,' he said. 'Is she in any state to receive a message now?'

'She's getting better,' I answered. 'It would probably help her recovery.' 

'Alright,' he said, crossing over to his room and shutting himself in there. I sighed and crossed over to sit on one of the benches and wait. 

I wondered how Sissel was now. When I'd visited her, she was able to talk better, could sit up, and was managing to keep down broth - a huge improvement from the previous day. Danica told me should be ready to come home in a couple of days. Should I tell her about Britte? Would it be too much for her to handle? Then again, her time spent here in Morthal had transformed her from an anxious wreck into a stable, toughened young woman. The version of Sissel in that temple was a product of skooma withdrawal, not an indication of her fragility when clean. 

Sofie at least hadn't been any trouble recently, but there was always worry at the back of my mind about the trauma she would have sustained under interrogation. She was strong, but nobody could be strong all the time. My worst fear was that she'd quietly deteriorate, too proud to talk about it, and end up being unable to carry on. It haunted me every day that they'd gone into my house, that I had slept whilst they took her away in the night.

I would kill Elenwen, and I would destroy my father, if it was the last thing I ever did. I would spill their blood even if it meant spilling my own. I would avenge Sofie for the torture she underwent, and Ondolemar for how they burned him within an inch of his life, and myself, and Thaduin, and every brainwashed citizen of the Dominion, every dead man, woman and child, every creature, every breath of air that those wretches fuelled their pathetic existence with.


	11. Sofie's Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

The next morning, Whiterun's training grounds were heaving with soldiers from Eastmarch, Windhelm and Winterhold. When I headed down early, leaving a note on the side for Sofie to do the chores, I found tents already erected, soldiers in a disorderly rabble, and a circle of Imperial legates in red surrounding Caius and Magge, who both looked relieved at my approach.

'Here he comes now,' I heard Caius say, and three faces turned to look at me.

'Good morning,' I greeted the three of them - as I recalled, Legate Hrollod of Eastmarch, Legate Skulnar of Falkreath, and Legate Sevan Telendas of Winterhold. 

'So this is the man I've heard so much about,' said one of them, Hrollod judging by the blue shield in his hand that boasted a white bear's head painted on its surface. 

'Nothing bad, I hope.' Truthfully, I didn't care much what any of them thought of me. I only cared about kicking the Dominion out of Skyrim, and to do that, I suppose I needed to be respected.

Skulnar laughed. 'Only that your methods seem impossible to the men you've been training. Is this here your only fully-trained auxiliary?' He gestured to Magge.

'She is,' I answered. 'Although I have a few others who are close. They will thereafter be able to help with the training.'

'And what is it that they're struggling with?' asked Sevan. 

'I'm teaching them to fight the way the Thalmor fight,' I explained. 'Because unless they understand their enemy's movements, they'll never be able to anticipate, and they'll all be slaughtered.'

'You're a former Thalmor commander, is that right?' 

'It is. A time in my life I am not proud of, might I add.' 

'My men can already hold their ground against Dominion soldiers,' Hrollod protested. 'Windhelm came under siege just weeks ago, and we kept them out.'

I rolled my eyes. 'It wasn't your men who stood against the Thalmor that day, Legate, it was a dragon.' 

Before Hrollod could argue, Caius cleared his throat. 'Speaking of which, will Eira be able to assist us at all?'

'She has no time. Jarls to see, dragons to slay, laundry to wash. The usual.' A brief pause fell between them all as they contemplated my words with almost matching frowns, and I suppressed a grin.

'Well,' said Skulnar, clapping his hands together. 'Let's get to work. How should we start?'

**********

By nine o'clock that evening, when my fourteen-hour working day finally ended, I'd transformed them from separate military systems into a unified force. Not only that, but I'd tested Hearst again, as well as Torvald and Odila, and all three of them had managed to knock me to the ground and pass their final assessment. Thoroughly bruised and mentally bashed, I dragged myself home and prayed Sofie had done everything I asked.

No sign of Eira today, I noted. She'd left late morning the previous day, and ought to have been back by now. There was always that worry in the back of my mind that some terrible fate had befallen her and she was laying half-dead in a ditch somewhere, but by now I'd learned never to underestimate what she was capable of. Most of Skyrim had learned that by now. In fact, people both adored her and feared her.

Breezehome was perfectly clean when I entered, and Sofie was stirring a pot on the firepit, beaming at my entrance. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

'Hmm,' I grumbled. 'You actually did the chores. And you're...cooking. What do you want?'

'Nothing!' she insisted, spooning soup into a bowl and handing it to me with a too-sweet smile. 'You worked a long day, and I know how crazy you are about order, so I decided to be...well, orderly.' She frowned. 'Is that a bruise on your cheek?'

'Yes,' I answered, tasting the soup, surprised that it wasn't too bad for a girl who I didn't recall ever cooking anything in her life. 'The final assessment that the recruits have to do involves beating me up, and I had three of them pass today.' 

'Oh no,' she sighed, pulling a pitiful face most unbefitting of her. I raised an eyebrow.

'Sofie,' I murmured in that 'suspicious parent' way I had learned over time. 'I wasn't born yesterday. Tell me what you're up to.'

Her expression changed as her facade cracked and crumbled. 'Alright, so...well, I was thinking...I mean, I want to do something useful, I can't just live on yours and Ma's money forever, I need a job, so...uh...'

'What?'

'Can I join the army?' 

I choked on my soup and stared at her. 'What?!'

'I want to enlist.'

'Not a chance,' I argued. 'No. A thousand times no.'

'But why?' she whined. 'Being a soldier is decent pay, I get to travel around a bit, be independent, fight for a good cause - '

'You are NOT going to be facing Dominion soldiers on a battlefield. This isn't a game, Sofie, it's _war_. There are three people in all of Tamriel whose blood I would not spill a single drop of, even to bring the Thalmor down, and that is you, Sissel and your mother. Now, I won't hear anything more of the matter.'

'Vindar's enlisting as a healer,' she sulked. 

'Good for him. Maybe he'll grow a spine out there. That doesn't mean you have to do it.'

'I'm a Nord, I was born to fight!'

'Then go to the Bannered Mare and go beat up some drunkards.'

The door clicked, and the candle flames flickered as a wave of air swept in before Eira materialised in the doorway. She looked between us as she entered the house, confusion furrowing her brows. 

'Did I interrupt something?' she asked.

'It's not fair!' Sofie yelled, tears forming in her eyes. 'You won't let me do anything!'

'Grow up,' I hissed at her. 'You're acting like a child when you're supposed to be of age. That kind of behaviour only proves me right.' 

'You don't understand,' she despaired.

'Will someone please tell me what in Auriel's name is going on?' Eira demanded, slinging her knapsack down on the floor. 

'Sofie wants to enlist in the army,' I sighed. 'And I've told her that there isn't a chance in Oblivion she's doing it.'

'Ma, please,' said Sofie. 'I can fight.'

'I know you can,' Eira said gently. 'But Ondolemar's right. The Dominion is stronger than you could possibly know.' 

'I know what they're like,' Sofie hissed. 'They tortured me.'

My heart sank at the mention of that terrible night. 'Yes, and look what happened after that,' I said, placing my hand on her arm. 'Sofie, I nearly died in there. And that was only against a handful of them, and I have the highest level of training attainable. Now imagine a battlefield full of people like that, against an army of people less skilled than me, and think about what that field will look like when the battle's over. Absolute carnage. I will not go counting the dead and find you there. I won't have you become another corpse for the burning pile.' 

Sofie shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. 'I just want to do something worthwhile.' 

'Your time will come, my dear,' said Eira. 'But not yet.'

'I'm going to bed,' Sofie croaked, slogging towards her room.

'Sleep well,' Eira said. 'You'll feel better in the morning.'

Sofie slammed her door shut without another word, and I huffed, a wave of tiredness hitting me. Eira offered me a sad smile and kissed my bruised cheek, taking my hand and sending a flow of healing magic through me. 

'How was Morthal?' I asked her. 'Is Joric in one piece?'

'Idgrod the Younger came back,' she explained. 'That's why he didn't contact Sissel.'

'Tell me about it in the morning,' I said. 'I feel like I might collapse.' 

'To bed it is then,' she said, following me up the creaky old stairs and shutting the doors to our room behind us with a clunk.


	12. Frustration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

Several weeks of stagnation passed by. Sissel had come home and was now truly on the way back to being her old self again, and more recruits completed their training each day. Every night Ondolemar came home with a new set of bruises, and his skin had become a patchwork of black and gold. Sofie spent most of the time sulking. My day to day life involved chores, diplomatic errands and the odd cave clearing, but nothing excited me. I'd started to feel trapped again.

A week before the seventeenth of Last Seed, the anniversary of that fateful day I had put my head on the chopping block and watched Alduin descend upon the world, I obeyed the summons of Jarl Balgruuf and dragged myself up to Dragonsreach. I had expected some kind of boring, pointless meeting about political rubbish that I would just nod my head and murmur my agreement to, and braced myself for a barrage of chatter.

'Eira,' said Balgruuf as I approached his throne. 'A special day soon, is it not?'

Well, that wasn't what I had expected him to say. 'Er...yes, I suppose it is.'

'Almost seven years ago, you came hurtling into this palace and stood in front of me, just as you are now,' he said. 'And told me a dragon had attacked Helgen. That day changed the course of history.'

'If we had listened to the course of history, my lord, we would have been better prepared for Alduin's return.'

'Aye, that is true. How will you mark the occasion?'

'I...don't normally celebrate it.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'And why not?'

'I nearly got my head cut off, then I nearly got burned to death, then I nearly got eaten by wolves, then...the point is, I almost died multiple times that day, and almost every day after that.'

'But despite that, you're still here. Is that not a reason to celebrate?'

I smiled. 'Balgruuf, if you want a celebration, by all means throw one.'

'I don't get out of this palace often enough,' Balgruuf said, clapping his hands together. 'And Whiterun needs something to celebrate amongst all this talk of war. Proventus, send word out through our lands, Falkreath, Winterhold, Hjaalmarch, the Pale and Eastmarch that there will be a festival held in the Dragonborn's name a week from now. Invite every trader, every bard, every citizen to attend.'

'As you wish,' replied Proventus, scrawling notes onto the paper in his hand. 

Balgruuf beamed. 'It is about time you had something to look forward to. I know it's all a bit...wearisome.'

I sighed. 'I'm tired of waiting. I just want the men to be ready.' 

'Soon, my friend. Soon.'

**********

On my way back down to Breezehome, as I passed the Gildergreen, I muttered a curse; Vilkas was coming up the stairs from the market. I was about to retreat and cut through the Wind District when he spotted me, and I scowled, knowing there was no avoiding him now. Instead, I steeled myself and carried on down the stairs.

'Morning,' he sang, offering a poisonous smile. 

'Go away.'

'Charming. A glorious day of clear skies and sunshine like this should warm even your cold heart, my love.'

'Don't call me that.'

'You used to like it,' he purred. 'What else did I used to call you, when we first wed? My heart's truest joy - '

'Stop it. Leave me alone.' He had changed path now to follow me as I headed home. A few curious pairs of eyes trailed us as I stormed through the market and he chased after me, his armour clinking and flashing bright in the sun.

'You know,' he murmured as we reached Breezehome and I fumbled for my door key, desperate to get inside and escape. 'We could talk about this.'

I narrowed my eyes at him, my hand pausing on the door handle. 'About what?'

He shrugged. 'Everything.'

'Stop trying to manipulate me.'

'I'm not, Eira. Aren't you sick of arguing?'

I hesitated, then shrugged off my doubts. 'Sofie's in anyway.'

'Sofie is never in.' 

'How would you know?'

'Because she's always got her tongue down that healer's throat in some quiet corner of the city. Why don't you let me in?'

'Ondolemar would go mad if he knew you had come within three feet of me,' I snapped. 'Let alone that you had harassed me and followed me home, then tried to demand entrance to the house.'

'Ah, yes. The jealous type, isn't he? Pretends not to be, of course. I've heard most Altmer men are controlling and jealous.'

I let out a sharp cackle of laughter. 'You really think Ondolemar is controlling towards me? Vilkas, he wouldn't even try, but if he did, he'd fail miserably.'

'I'm just surprised someone like you can be compatible with someone like him.'

'How do you mean?'

Vilkas folded his arms. 'If you want to talk, we can talk inside.'

I huffed. 'Not a chance. Please leave and don't follow me again.' 

His eyes gleamed a thousand shades of light and dark in the sun. The season had darkened his skin, like it did every year, softening the blackness of his hair, accentuating the edge of his jaw. Catching myself before I stared too long and gave off the wrong impression, I went inside with a grunt of disapproval and slammed the door, blocking Vilkas out.

Wanting to crumple, hide, fade away, I ran upstairs and shut myself in my room, glad that the house was empty, glad to be alone, glad to have no one else's needs to attend to for a change. 

Something felt _wrong_. Inside, I was clawing to escape how mundane my life had become. This was a waiting game. I was waiting for the day that would bring either my glory or my peril. Normally, I would chase it, but I couldn't. Not now. I needed to chase it. Something had to happen, anything. 

Or else, peril might find me anyway.


	13. A Misunderstanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV
> 
> Yes, I finally updated again after...nearly 2 weeks? Being away from home messes up my schedule, so apologies for irregular updates.

Everything hurt. For weeks on end I'd been subjected to regular beatings from my trainees, often in vain, but sometimes with the relief of signing their papers and sending them on their way. Now only a few dozen remained, and frankly, I was considering booting them from the force anyway to save myself from more broken bones at the hands of inadequate fighters.

Others were already rising up the ranks. We had a few quaestors, some praefects, Hearst and Jolenta as tribunes, and so far Magge was the only one to make it all the way to the position of legate. She stuck to my side like my own shadow, and had been indispensable when it came to shaping the rest up. I'd even come to consider her a friend, which coming from me was something of a compliment. 

The seventeenth of Last Seed arrived, bringing with it a tremendous wave of heat that left me glad to have the day off. We were due to march on the Rift in just a week, and battle plans were playing out in my mind even as I sat on the edge of the well amongst the festivities trying to drown my worries in ale. The city was heaving with tourists from as far afield as Hammerfell, all flocking here to steal a moment's conversation with Eira, to make the Dragonborn draw breath to speak to them, to hear the voice that Shouted Alduin from the sky. She seemed to have disappeared, possibly seeking refuge from the mobs haunting her, but words were being exchanged as people glanced my way. Did they think I might know where she was?

I thought it best to move along before any of them got the idea of speaking to me, and slunk away behind the Bannered Mare, where the darkness kept the visitors away. Sighing, I put my back to the timber and winced at the pain of my bruises. Healing spells could only go so far when you were being smacked with wooden poles on a daily basis.

'Evening, Commander,' came Magge's voice as she materialised from the shadows to my left. 

'Good evening, Legate,' I replied, offering her a smile. 'Are you hiding behind this inn for the same reason I am?'

'Crowds aren't my thing,' she said. 'I suppose I should be used to them, after growing up the Imperial City.'

'You didn't grow up in Skyrim?'

'No,' she answered, a gentle smile blooming on her face. 'Both my parents were Nords, but they were merchants. Or at least, they...well, they were until my father died.'

'Oh.' I knotted my fingers together uncertainly. 'I'm sorry to hear that.'

Magge looked down at the ground, placing a hand on the wall beside me. 'Mother couldn't manage alone. She turned to other methods to keep a roof over our heads. Prostitution, smuggling, selling skooma...eventually she got hooked on the stuff and died of an overdose.' 

There were tears forming in her eyes, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek, looking down at my hands. 'Oh, er...yes, that must have been terrible for you.' 

'I'm sorry,' she croaked, wiping her eyes. 'I'm just so lonely all the time. I have no friends, no family, no husband or lover. Nothing. I only have the army.'

This was becoming increasingly awkward. There weren't many people I could deal with emotional outbursts from, and Magge certainly wasn't one of them. Rather than try and think of something to say, I handed her my drink and she accepted it with a watery smile, knocking back half the bottle.

'Gods, that stuff is strong,' she remarked. 'You know, I feel like I can open up to you.'

'You do? I'm not exactly known for my comforting skills.' 

Her lips curled up into a smirk. 'I'm sure you have a few skills that would be very...comforting.' 

I scowled down at her. 'What's that supposed to mean?' 

'I think you have a good idea,' she purred, her tears suddenly vanishing as she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me, pushing me against the back wall of the inn before I could react and stop her. I tried to push her away but winced at the pain from my injuries. A light fell over us, and I heard a gasp, then finally Magge let go of me.

'You bastard!' Eira bellowed, the torch in her hand illuminating a face that burned with fury.

'I can explain,' I said, or tried to say, but she had already dropped the torch and grabbed Magge as she tried to run past, smacking her head against the corner of the Bannered Mare and knocking her out. She advanced on me, growling, even drawing her dagger.

'Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cut you down!' she spat.

'Because this is a ridiculous misunderstanding.'

'Ridiculous? You know what's ridiculous? That I wasted seven wretched years with you!'

'Eira, calm down!' I hissed. 'Put the dagger away.'

'No!' she yelled, charging at me in a frenzy. I caught her by the wrists and the dagger clattered to the ground. She struggled against my grip and I gritted my teeth through the searing pain in my battered ribs and back as I held her still until she gave up, falling to her knees, tears of frustration and anger brewing in her eyes. 

'Listen to me,' I said gently. 'I swear to Auriel, if I had any idea what Magge's intentions were, I would never have let her come within arm's reach of me.'

'Why were you even behind here with her?' Eira sobbed. 'What in Oblivion were you doing _behind the inn _with another woman?'__

__'I was just trying to get away from the crowds,' I explained. 'And came behind here. She showed up, fed me some stupid sob story, so I gave her something to drown her sorrows. Next thing I know she was pinning me up against a wall.'_ _

__'If I find out you're lying to me, Ondolemar,' she hissed. 'I'll make you pay for it.'_ _

__'I don't doubt it, but I would never lie to you, and I would certainly never cheat on you.'_ _

__Eira took a shaky breath, and relief washed over me as she blinked her tears away. Magge stirred beside us, groaning, and I let go of Eira's wrists and seized Magge by the arm._ _

__'You have some explaining to do, Legate,' I growled, pulling her to face us._ _

__'Oh gods,' she croaked. 'My head...'_ _

__'Start explaining now,' Eira demanded. 'Or I'll split your pretty little head open.'_ _

__'It's not worth it,' I said. 'Magge, you inappropriately propositioned your commander and violated military regulations. What do you have to say for yourself?'_ _

__Magge let out a wheezing laugh. 'Your beard's all scratchy.'_ _

__'For gods' sakes,' Eira muttered. 'Do this tomorrow in front of an audience. Humiliate this harlot away from me or I might just Shout her to her grave.'_ _

__'Alright. Help me take her back to the barracks.'_ _

__'We'll go around the back,' Eira said. 'Avoid the crowds.'_ _

__Eira hit her on the head again, instantly rendering her unconscious, and together we hauled Magge all the way to the city gates and out to the hastily-constructed barracks, where she had earned the liberty of her own room. We dumped her on the bed and I wiped sweat from my brow, huffing with the heat and humidity of midsummer._ _

__'I'm sorry I lost my wits and brandished a knife at you,' said Eira after a moment of silence._ _

__'If I had come round the corner and found you in a similar situation, I probably would have lost my wits too.' I frowned. 'Why did you come around the back of the Bannered Mare anyway?'_ _

__'Well...some stranger from out of town told me to.'_ _

__I whirled, staring at her. 'What?'_ _

__'He said he'd seen you with another woman in there, that she was all over you, blah blah, so I came to see for myself.'_ _

__'That's....odd.'_ _

__Eira rubbed her temples and sighed. 'Are you sure what I saw wasn't real?'_ _

__'Of course it wasn't,' I answered. 'If I wanted someone else, I would just leave you, not sneak around behind your back like a coward.'_ _

__Eira's eyes narrowed. 'You mean like I did with Vilkas?'_ _

__'I didn't mean...' I drifted off as a thought occurred to me. 'No. Even he wouldn't.'_ _

__'What?'_ _

__'Nothing. It's insane, even for him.'_ _

__'You think Vilkas has done something?'_ _

__'Would you put it beyond him to try and set me up?'_ _

__Eira's brows furrowed and she glanced down at Magge, limp on the bed. 'But...if it was him, why would Magge go along with it? And a complete stranger?'_ _

__'Money,' I answered. 'Strangers are easy to bribe. This army has limited funds and doesn't pay well, even for a legate. Or maybe Magge did just want to get her hands on me and volunteered for the job.'_ _

__Eira glared down at Magge and began to search the drawers beside the bed, pulling out a slip of paper and a large coin purse. 'Gotcha.'_ _

__'What is it?' I asked as she opened up the note and scanned the contents._ _

__' _Your accomplice will be waiting for you in the Bannered Mare. When he sees the signal he will leave to fetch the Dragonborn and bring her around the back, where she will see her beloved fiancé apparently betraying her. The rest of your payment is dependent on your success._ '_ _

__'Who is it signed by?'_ _

__'It isn't signed,' said Eira. 'But it isn't Vilkas' handwriting.'_ _

__'Pfft. I didn't know he _could_ write.'_ _

__Eira shot me a glare. 'Not now.'_ _

__'Lighten up, would you?' I sighed. 'There's your proof that I'm no cheat.'_ _

__'I want to know who did this.'_ _

__'No violent outbursts,' I warned._ _

__'Look who's talking!' she exclaimed. 'Pardon me if I'm not going to take that advice off someone who nearly strangled my ex-husband to death!'_ _

__I rolled my eyes. 'Don't start. This is what whoever did this wants.'_ _

__'Wake her up,' said Eira, gesturing to Magge. 'Question her. This ends now.'_ _

__'Aren't you meant to be giving a speech at some point tonight?'_ _

__'Shit,' Eira cursed. 'I forgot. I haven't even prepared one.'_ _

__'Go,' I said. 'You'll have to make it up as you go along. Let me deal with Magge.'_ _

__'Fine. Don't leave here until you get a name.'_ _

__With that Eira darted from the room, running back to the city. I sighed and scowled down at Magge's limp form, her hair damp with sweat and ale, a thin trail of saliva dripping from her lip where her head was flopped to the side._ _

__'Dignified,' I muttered to myself, settling on a chair to wait for her to come round._ _


	14. Addressing the Crowd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

The crowds were already gathered around the Gildergreen, and I found myself having to use the tunnels between the guard barracks and the palace to get onto the right side without them seeing me. It was all planned out - I was to descend the stairs in a stupidly dramatic and graceful fashion, tell them the tale of my defeat of Alduin, and speak out against the Dominion. I was supposed to have prepared a speech that would make the Thalmor walk into a trap through the spies they had undoubtedly sent here without informing them of our plans. We were trying to get them to spread their forces across Winterhold, the Pale and Hjaalmarch, weakening the defence in Solitude, and making our victory much easier to achieve.

'Where have you been?' demanded Balgruuf as I entered the palace via the dungeon. 'You were due to begin ten minutes ago.'

'Personal troubles,' I said. 'I apologise.'

'Have you prepared a speech?'

'No need. I know what to say.'

'Hmph. You'd better hope you pull this off. We're relying on you.'

Once, I might have snapped a warning at him, but I knew Balgruuf was only concerned for Whiterun and for all of Skyrim. Yet again the fate of so many depended on me. Maybe one day I'd finally be able to live for myself rather than my existence being centred around the needs of countless others. Probably not. 

I left Dragonsreach and headed down the stairs as planned, cheering erupting from the crowd as they caught sight of me. Parents lifted children onto their shoulders to catch a glimpse, others fighting their way to the front. Sofie and Sissel flanked the stairs, protected by a line of guards that held the swarm of people back. I stopped, poised, my hands folded behind my back, not knowing where to begin as people hushed each other to silence.

'On this day seven years ago,' I began, nervous now, everyone's eyes on me. 'I woke up before dawn in the city of Bruma on Cyrodiil's northern border. I had spent my whole life fleeing the Thalmor after I deserted their ranks, disgusted by their cruelty and ashamed at my participation. My past chased me to Tamriel's northernmost regions, and as I left my bed and began my journey to Skyrim, I could never have anticipated what would await me there.

Caught in the crossfire of a skirmish between the Stormcloak rebels and the forces of the Empire, I was tied up, bound and slung into the back of a cart with Ulfric Stormcloak himself, one of his men, and a thief. We pondered our imminent deaths as the cart trundled towards Helgen, where the chopping block awaited us all. The thief fled, one Stormcloak was executed, and then it was my turn. I stepped up to the block, turned my head, almost...glad. Because dying meant I wouldn't have to hide anymore.

A roar tore through the air as Alduin landed on the tower. I'll never forget the deafening sound, the spines that covered his form, those eyes that seemed to burn into my very soul...' I stopped for a moment, wincing, remembering every time death had seemed to stare at me through Alduin's eyes. 'It wasn't until I killed a dragon just outside of this very city that I knew I was Dragonborn, and after seeing Alduin and knowing that I would have to face him, frankly I turned from my destiny and ran from it the best I could. Instead I travelled around, joined the Companions, the College of Winterhold, the Dawnguard, became a Thane in eight holds, made myself a name, accumulated wealth. 

Still, rumours of dragon attacks haunted me wherever I went, until finally I accepted my duty. I walked the long and difficult path towards my goal, until I flew from Dragonsreach on the back of a dragon who once I would have called my enemy, and now know as my brother. I saw Sovngarde, spoke with the heroes of old, had them join me in battle as together we faced the World-Eater and, at last, brought him down.

On that day, I proved to Alduin and every dragon who would still kill in his name that mortality is no hindrance to strength. Now, a new threat rises, and I will prove the same again to those who would take from us our freedom, our homes, our nation, our very lives. The Aldmeri Dominion will stop at nothing to destroy all that the rest of Tamriel holds dear, and my friends, their goal is far more sinister than a simple invasion. They plan to unmake the world, believing that if they do so, the Altmer can take their 'rightful' place among the gods.' A collective gasp was drawn by the crowd, who began to chatter worriedly amongst themselves. 'By annihilating the races of Men, and destroying all memory of them, and of Talos, who binds mortal souls to this plane, time will shift and uncoil, and elves will no longer know ageing and death.' 

'But how are we meant to stop that?!' cried one member of the crowd, pushing forward to look up at me with eager but concerned eyes. 'What chance do any of us have?!' 

'Where there's a will, there's a way,' I answered. 'And my will is stronger than all the ranks of the Thalmor. All their blades and their spells and their arrows would not hinder me from removing them not just from Skyrim, but from all the world. There are those among you now who would align themselves with the Dominion for their own personal gain, and who have only come here for some hint of military plan. Well know this - no one but the Thalmor benefits from the end of the world as we know it. You are fools, and you will perish. Nonetheless, take a message to your masters - the Dragonborn sends her regards, and warns them to be ready to fight for their wretched lives, for the armies of Eastmarch, Falkreath, Winterhold, the Pale and Hjaalmarch have come to Whiterun, and we're coming to spill their guts on the streets of Solitude! They will see that their blood flows red, just like the blood of men! They will know death!'

They were cheering their praise now, faces lighting up with merriment. I'd pulled it off. It was quite obvious who down there was a spy - a frown here, a scowl there, and one or two simply left. They'd sent plenty. 

I descended the stairs to where Sofie and Sissel awaited me, Sofie's brow furrowed with concern.

'Should you have told them that the other armies are here?' she asked. 'Now the Thalmor will know that the other holds are weak.'

Sissel went white. 'But that means...they'll go to Morthal!'

'Don't panic,' I reassured them. 'We want them to know that the other holds are weak. We want them to go there and take over so that their forces are scattered. The jarls know to cooperate, and it isn't in the Dominion's nature to kill those they think they can make use of.' I placed my hand on Sissel's shoulder. 'Joric will be safe. I promise.'

'Where's Ondolemar?' said Sofie.

'It's...a long story. Someone seems to be pulling out all the stops to split us up, put it that way.'

Sissel frowned. 'How?'

'You don't need to know the details. Everything's fine between us, Ondolemar's just busy trying to work out who's behind it all.' 

'Ma...' Sofie said. 'I know you won't let me enlist, but - '

'Sofie,' I warned. 'Please don't ask anything of me which you know I can't allow.'

'I just want to march out with them,' Sofie pleaded. 'I want to do something. I don't want to sit here whilst my family goes to war, doing nothing. You're going, Ondolemar's going, Vindar's going...'

'Look,' I said. 'I know this isn't easy for either of you, but you're young women just coming into your prime and I can't let you put your lives at risk when they're only just beginning.'

'I defeated Molag Bal!' Sofie protested. 'You let me face a Daedric Prince but you won't let me face a few Riften guards?'

'I had no choice,' I argued. 'You were the only one who had any chance, and we were all going to die if I didn't let you take Dawnbreaker anyway. This situation isn't like that and you know it.'

'She isn't even asking to fight,' Sissel intervened, and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. 'She just wants to go with them. I could come too - I might have visions that can help.'

'Ma, we're not children anymore,' said Sofie. 'We want to do something.'

'If you want to be helpful,' I grumbled. 'Stop nagging me. My decision is final - you're both staying here.' 

I didn't give them time to respond before I marched off through the crowd, sighing internally as people reached out to touch me or cling to my hand or profess their admiration and gratitude. My mind was still burdened by the events of earlier that evening, and I was tired, grumpy, and needed my bed. 

In three days, we would march upon Riften and Markarth. Commander Caius was taking half the Whiterun regiment along with Falkreath's soldiers to Markarth, whilst Ondolemar and I would take the rest to Riften. It wasn't that we lacked any confidence about our victory - we had far more resources, elite training, and the advantage of surprise. That is, unless someone had tipped off Maven and the Silver-Bloods and revealed our plans. Yet there was a growing knot of anxiety in my stomach all the time. Perhaps it was starting to take hold of me exactly what we were trying to achieve, what I had promised to the world - the end of the Thalmor. Was it possible to put an end to them? I'd seen myself the damage even one of them could do. Ancano very nearly achieved the unmaking of the world with the Eye of Magnus, and still the effects of that day could be felt when anomalies spawned in cities or destroyed farmsteads. 

Entering Breezehome, I marched upstairs and fell into my bed, not bothering to undress as I drifted away to the sound of cheering in the streets.


	15. The Siege of Riften

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Magge claimed not to know who was behind the incident at the back of the inn. In her words, she'd been left a note requesting that she take part in the plan and in return be given a generous sum of a thousand septims by whoever was responsible - five hundred before, and five hundred after. When I'd asked how she managed to say yes if she didn't even know who to direct a response at, she said that the note told her to leave her response on the back and leave it in her room. When she returned after training that day, it had vanished. 

So, not only did I have no idea who was behind it all, but to make matters worse, Magge had confessed that the reason she was willing to carry out such a plan was because she apparently _did_ have feelings for me. Despite warning her that such a thing was highly inappropriate and could result in her expulsion, she'd continued to stare at me almost constantly on the training grounds for the rest of the day, and was entirely distracted from her work. Naturally, I'd assigned her to Caius' division of the force - the last thing I needed was some lovestruck inferior officer drooling over me during a siege, especially with Eira around.

Unfortunately, Vilkas was still hanging around like a bad smell - Caius had thought to take his pick of the Companions earlier and leave me with whomever he didn't want. Either he didn't want Vilkas starting any fights within his regiment, or he thought it would be funny to make me deal with him. 

'Just ignore him,' Eira sighed when I'd finished ranting about his presence. 'If I can manage it, I'm sure you can.'

'He's the one who starts trouble, not me,' I protested. 

'That doesn't mean you need to finish it,' she said. 

We rode on in silence. The Rift was colder than Whiterun thanks to its altitude, which came as a relief after months of training in sweltering heat. Golden leaves fluttered down to blanket the cobbled surface of the road, and the sun glared down at us from where it sat above the horizon, its fiery light shimmering along the surface of the river. 

'Afternoon, Commander,' said Legate Hrollod, pulling his horse in line with mine. He leaned forward and nodded to Eira in greeting. 'Dragonborn. A fine day for a battle, is it not?' 

'I'd rather be at home with a flagon of ale and a plateful of fishy sticks,' yawned Legate Skulnar, pulling up at Eira's side. 

Hrollod tipped his head back and guffawed. 'Ah, Skulnar my friend, when we bring ourselves glory by liberating this hold, we'll indulge in all the feasting you can dream of!'

I raised an eyebrow. 'You're paying, then.' 

'Anything for my brothers and sisters in arms,' Hrollod replied with a thin-lipped smile.

When we reached Riften, I split the force in three, sending two groups to the main entrances and the third smaller party to the door into the city by the fishery. Eira and I led the third, waiting until nightfall then clambering into a boat on a small jetty in Lake Honrich with a dozen battlemages. The fight raged across the water, flames dancing on Riften's walls.

'Ready?' said Eira. I nodded, and she signalled to the men to start rowing. The boat lurched forward as it was released from the jetty, and we sped towards Riften, cutting silently through the black water. 

'Listen up,' I ordered as we pulled up at the abandoned fishery. 'Riften's soldiers are in three places - at both of the gates where the fighting is happening, and surrounding Mistveil Keep. That leaves the rest of the walls mostly undefended.' I gestured to the blacksmith's. 'We're going to climb up on that roof and arrange ourselves so we have a clear shot of the entrance of the keep, avoiding detection, and when I give the signal, fire everything you can at the soldiers outside it. Any questions?' 

'I have a question,' said a Bosmer woman, trying to reach above the others to be seen. 'Can we use conjuration?'

I rolled my eyes. 'Can a conjuration spell kill somebody?'

'Uh...yes, sir.'

'Then there's your answer,' I snapped. 'Any real questions? No? Good. Move out.' 

We scrambled onto the roof of the warehouse. Smoke thickened the air, and I hissed in warning at a mage who coughed, resisting the urge to do so myself. If we were spotted, our chances of victory would be dangerously low; the gates were so far holding against the battering rams, and the soldiers atop the walls had the advantage of height to fire down at our forces. Only by removing the defences from Mistveil Keep would we be able to sway the battle in our favour. 

When the battlemages were in position, I studied the area. Most of the soldiers were gathered in front of the main entrance of course, which made it our prime target. The second door was out of our reach, and no doubt also heavily guarded, but those soldiers would probably wait until we tried to enter the keep to attack.

'Is there any other way in?' I whispered to Eira. 

'Not in armour,' she answered. 'There's a sewer that leads into the prison, but it involves squeezing through a tiny grate.' 

I cursed. 'We don't have enough men.'

'Don't lose faith now. All these soldiers who we're up against are either issued by the legion or have always lived here. The former won't care much for internal politics, and the latter is unlikely to have much love for Maven. If we can get to her, we can end this.'

'Will you call Odahviing if the situation worsens?'

'Of course, but I'd rather not have to. Relying on him makes us look weak. I don't want the Thalmor making him a target. Come on, let's just do this. Give the signal.' 

I sighed, releasing a ball of candlelight into the air. The moment it lit up, the soldiers at the entrance turned and readied their weapons, only to be met with a barrage of flames. It was terrible to behold, so many people going up in smoke, screaming and crying. They disbanded, each man for himself, some throwing themselves in the canal to quench the fire whilst others simply gave up and fell to the ground. A few arrows came whirring past me, shot by the few who had avoided the worst of the ambush. 

I grabbed one of the battlemages. 'You, boy! Get this lot on the ground to deal with the rest of the defence. Keep them busy.' I turned to Eira. 'Take me to that sewer tunnel.'


	16. Maven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

'I can't believe I'm about to enter that infested water and climb up through a disgusting tunnel of excrement,' Ondolemar moaned as we abandoned our armour by the lake's edge. 

'All in the name of our cause, dear,' I sighed. 'Ready?'

'Ready as I'll ever be.' We waded into the water, freezing now in the night of early autumn, the mud shifting beneath us. Thankfully the sewer grate wasn't too far away, but the smell of it wafted towards us, threatening to force a gag from my throat. I gripped the boards and pulled the grate open, and we slipped inside, closing it behind us.

'This is awful,' Ondolemar groaned.

'Be quiet,' I hissed. 'If the guards hear us talking, we're done for.' 

We crept along the tunnel, a dim ball of magelight glowing in my hand. The walls were coated in thick, stinking slime, and things crunched under my boots that I didn't want to think about. 

When we got to a wide chamber, skeevers launched themselves at our faces. We tried our best to put them down quietly, all too aware of the echoes that bounced off the walls. 

'There it is,' I breathed as we reached the top of the stairs and peered around the corner, to where a loose metal grate led straight into Riften's prison. A guard was sat in there, swigging a bottle of mead and peering over a book. I sneered in disgust as he put his hand down his pants and let out a low chuckle. No guesses what the book was, then. 

I reached around the grate, grasping a bottle of mead, and popped open the top, pouring a couple of drops of paralysis poison into it and placing it back in the room. When the guard finished his bottle he reached for it and took a swig, immediately starting to twitch and splutter. I pushed open the grate and crawled through, Ondolemar following me, and stood over the guard as he stared up confused, his mouth foaming slightly.

'Shh,' I whispered. 'If you want to live, don't come after us.' The guard slumped, closing his eyes. 

The rest of them were easy targets, and I was glad to be able to get them out of our way without spilling unnecessary blood. This battle would claim enough lives as it was. We burst out into the open air, surprised to find the outside of the prison unguarded, and hauled ourselves up onto the roof of Mistveil Keep.

'I want to avoid killing them,' I whispered as we crouched beneath the slope of the roof.

'Paralysing them puts us at greater risk,' Ondolemar argued. 'If they wake up before we can dispose of Maven, they'll have us at their mercy.'

'Then we'll injure them enough to stop them,' I said. 'But too many have died already.'

'Alright, but if we get taken by surprise later, I'm blaming you.' 

We crawled over the top of the roof and I readied my spell. 'Get back,' I told Ondolemar. 'Cast your ward.' I let the magic flow from my being out to the men on the ground gathered around the keep's side entrance. They let out stifled cries as they fell, frozen, thudding against the ground. We scrambled down from the roof. 'Put a wound in one of each man's legs.' I felt awful for knowing the soldiers were watching as I stabbed them with my dagger, powerless to do anything about it. Still, it could save their lives and ours, and the wounds weren't so deep that blood loss could kill them, even without the paralysis slowing their heartbeat. 

Ondolemar sent up another ball of candlelight, a signal to the battlemages to hold fire and get to the ground. We went in through the side entrance to the keep, sneaking along the corridor and pausing to listen outside the main hall.

'My Jarl, our forces are all but destroyed,' said Maul. 'We should surrender now and plead for mercy.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' hissed Maven. 'I am untouchable. These fools can claim however many soldiers and guards they wish, but my connections will keep me safe.'

'I'm...not so sure about that, Mother,' said Hemming. 'All your connections probably hate the Thalmor as much as those men out there. They will forsake you in the name of destroying them.'

'This is absurd!' Maven growled. 'Don't they see? The Thalmor cannot be defeated. It is futile!'

'Scared, are we?' I purred as we stepped into the hall. Hemming and Maul immediately drew weapons, but they were frozen to the spot. 'Oh, I do _love_ to make the invincible feel fear for the first time.'

'You,' she said, smirking. 'Do you think that the two of you stand a chance against everyone in this keep?'

'Yes,' I answered. 'Because anyone in this keep with any sense will align themselves with us. You are hated by nearly everyone in the Rift. Your power comes from corruption. Every breath you take is a blight on the people of Skyrim, and I intend to cure this land of it.' 

'Well what are you waiting for?' Maven barked at Maul and Hemming. 'Kill them!'

Hemming shot forward, clumsily trying to attack us, but was easily kicked to the ground. 'Do we spare this one?' asked Ondolemar. I shook my head. Ondolemar ran him through with a knife, leaving him soiled and bleeding on the floor whilst Maven screeched.

'Maul, what are you doing?!' she shrieked.

'I'm outta here,' Maul grumbled, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

'Go on, crawl back to the Ratway,' I said, gesturing for him to leave. 'And keep your hands up until you get there.' He obeyed, and Maven looked around desperately, a cornered rat. 

'Look,' she croaked. 'I can give you power, money, whatever you want. I could get the Thalmor to pardon you.'

'Enough!' I yelled. 'There's only one fate you deserve, Maven. I'll try to make it quick.'

'You'll pay for this, _Dragonborn_ ,' she growled. 'The Guild and the Brotherhood will be on your case the moment you put that knife in me!'

'Who said anything about a knife?' I asked, readying my Voice. 'Gaan Lah Haas!' 

Maven stumbled as her life force was drained away by the Shout, leaving her cowering on the floor. It wasn't a sight I'd ever expected to see since I'd met the wretched woman, who had always seemed to carry herself with poise and grace, even in her wickedness. Now she was reduced to a snivelling, sobbing weakling, too reliant on her minions to stand any chance of defending herself. 

'Finish her off,' I told Ondolemar as she curled up in front of her throne, choking on a stream of blood that flowed from her throat. He nodded and put his blade in her heart, and we watched solemnly as her life fizzled out before us. Even the death of an evil person was no fair sight to behold.

'Come on,' Ondolemar mumbled. 'Let's call a ceasefire.'


	17. Brynjolf's Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Some reinforcements the Markarth division turned out to be - they arrived well after the battle for Riften had ended, but at least they brought plenty of supplies with them. It turned out Igmund had done exactly as I expected and handed over both the Silver-Bloods and the Thalmor to our forces with scarcely a moment of hesitation, and agreed to let the Forsworn reclaim ownership of the wilderness. It seemed, for now at least, that most people were happy, especially Riften's new Jarl, Mjoll the Lioness, and her lovestruck steward Aerin. 

Sadly, not everyone was best pleased with the death of Maven, Hemming and Sibbi Black-Briar. We'd left Ingun alive, but she chose to leave Skyrim after a few days. With their criminal empire all but leaderless, it wasn't long before people started crawling out of the Ratway to hunt down those responsible. They'd already sent thugs after Eira, and soon the professional assassins would come, and then we'd have a real problem. 

As it turned out, Vilkas came marching into my makeshift office in Mistveil Keep one morning with a face as grim as stone. 'What do you want?' I grumbled.

'Some dirtbag who calls himself Brynjolf just showed up,' he answered. 'Says he wants a word with you and Eira.' 

'What about?'

'How would I know?'

'Useful,' I muttered, rising from my chair and following him to the great hall. Mjoll and Aerin were glaring at the man in front of the throne, Eira standing to the side, her arms folded. 

'Here we are, Brynjolf,' she said. 'What do you want?'

'To speak in private would be a good start, lass.' 

'That's not going to happen,' growled Mjoll. 'If you have something to say, wretch, you'll say it here in my court.'

'My lady,' said Eira. 'You can be assured of a full report of whatever he tells us. His tongue will be looser away from this hall.' 

'Fine,' answered Mjoll. 'But I won't be held responsible if he kills either of you.'

Brynjolf chuckled and winked at her. 'I'd like to think I'm not that stupid. You have a place we can talk?'

'My office,' I answered, leading him to the back of the keep, where he helped himself to a chair and yawned, stretching widely.

'Now,' he began. 'I think you know why I'm here.'

'I don't care for threats and fear-mongering,' Eira said. 'Let those in the Guild send their thugs, let the assassins come and try to put me down. They will fail.'

'Thugs?' Brynjolf echoed. 'Assassins? Nothing of the sort has been sent by the Guild, lass. No, we don't want you dead. Quite the opposite - we have a proposal for you.' 

'What kind of proposal?' I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him. 

'One that would be very profitable for all of us.' He leaned forward and laced his fingers together, grinning up at us. 'Maven was one of the pillars that held the Guild up, possibly the most important and influential person in the whole network. Now that you've removed her, we need to replace her. That's why we're not interested in killing you out of revenge - there's only one person who wields the same amount of power, influence and wealth as Maven, and she's stood in front of me.'

'If you're suggesting I involve myself with the Guild,' Eira said through gritted teeth. 'You can forget it.'

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. 'Why? You're not exactly clean yourself. How many times have you ever stolen to put clothes on your back? How many lives have you taken to preserve your own? Don't tell me it's different, because it's not, lass. You're just a criminal who got pardoned because she happened to be Dragonborn.' 

'This is ridiculous,' I hissed. 'We just fought a battle to remove corruption from this city, and now you're asking us to become the new source of this dump's problems.'

'Look,' Brynjolf sighed. 'The Guildmaster is prepared to take the matter further if you refuse to help us. He's furious that Maven is dead. I persuaded him to let me try and get you to take Maven's place, but he's only given me a day to get it sorted.'

'And after that?' asked Eira.

'After that, he'll send the Brotherhood after you. Eira, no one stops them. You possibly saved my life all those years ago in the marketplace - let me take a chance to save yours.' He rose from the chair and crossed to the door, pausing. 'Give it some thought. When you've made a decision, meet me in the Ragged Flagon.'

With that, he slipped out of the door, leaving me staring after him in astonishment and outrage. 'Why don't we just flood the Ratway with our men and kill every one of those thieves?' I said. 'Wipe them out. No more threats and bribes, no more destroyed businesses and ransacked homes.'

'Those in the Guild have friends in the Brotherhood,' she mumbled. 

'Then we'll take them out too!' I argued. 'If you agree to assist them, all those men died for nothing.'

'Who's the greater threat, the Thieves Guild or the Thalmor?' said Eira. 'Would it be so bad to have their skill set at our disposal? Any important documents we need, they'll find. Any supplies the Thalmor order in, they'll intercept.'

'You're mad for even considering this.'

'Mad, or resourceful?'

'We spilled blood!'

'And you would have spent more men than I was willing to!' she yelled, her eyes aflame with anger. 'So don't speak to me of blood spilled, Ondolemar. I know it as well as you.'

I shook my head. 'I have no words for you. Throwing away lives for nothing, corrupting yourself like this, becoming the thing you sought to destroy. Come and find me when you find your sense, Eira.'

I marched out of the keep into the pouring rain, a cold lump in the pit of my stomach, and stormed out of the city gates.


	18. The Guild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV
> 
> I probably won't follow the Thieves Guild questline very strictly, but what is fanfiction without a little divergence from canon?

I waited until night to go to the Ragged Flagon. The last time I had come through the Ratway was to find Esbern, and little had changed since then, except there were a fair few more lowlifes hiding out in the tunnels than before. 

I'm not sure exactly what I had expected when I walked into the Flagon again after all this time - maybe for it to look less shabby and run-down, since Maven had become Jarl. Rather, it was the same hovel it had always been. Narrowed eyes followed my steps as I headed further in, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell of stagnant old water that hung in the damp air. 

'What do you want?' growled Dirge, blocking me from going further in. 

'Brynjolf asked for me,' I answered, folding my arms. 

'Ha! You're Tonilia's replacement then? Good luck with that.'

I frowned. 'What are you talking about? You know what, I don't care. Just move out of my way.' 

Dirge glared at me and cracked his knuckles. 'You don't talk to me like that!' He tried to lunge for me, but I was quicker.

'FUS!' I Shouted, sending Dirge tumbling away with a grunt. I stormed into the Flagon, where a dozen shocked faces were staring at me. 

'Alright, who are you?' demanded a white-haired woman, playing with her knife. 'And what do you want?'

'My name is Eira, and I'm here to see Brynjolf. The useless turd said he'd meet me here after nightfall.'

'What in Oblivion was - ?' yelled an unfamiliar voice from a tunnel leading away from the Flagon. Two men stepped in - one was Brynjolf, who I made a point of scowling at, and the other was a sandy-haired Breton who glowered at me from where he stood.

'Nice to see you, lass,' Brynjolf greeted, grinning at me. 

'Your friends don't seem to agree, Brynjolf,' I hissed.

'This is her?' said the other man, studying my face.

'Aye, this is the Dragonborn herself.' 

'Then bring her in. We've got work to do.' He turned and headed back into the dark tunnel, and Brynjolf gestured for me to follow. We passed through a false cabinet into a wide cistern full of more people, some practising archery, others asleep, and others sparring with each other. 

'This better not be another waste of the Guild's resources, Brynjolf,' said the Breton, leaning against a desk and staring at me.   
'Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share. No debates, no discussions... you do what we say, when we say. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes. What do you want me to do?'

'Before you murdered Maven Black-Briar, she was having us look into why a nearby honey producer pulled out of supplying the meadery,' he said. 'You're going to finish the job for us and teach the supplier a lesson.' 

'Wait a moment, you're not talking about Goldenglow, are you?' said Brynjolf. 'Even our little Vex couldn't get in.'

'You pleaded for me not to set the Brotherhood on her based on her _talents_ being of use to us. Let her prove it.' 

'Wait a second,' I intervened. 'Why are we finishing a job for a dead woman?'

'Because whoever is behind this has been trying to drive a wedge between the Guild and Maven for years,' answered Brynjolf. 'Not to mention not giving us our cut. That means they're trouble for the Guild, with or without Maven.' 

'Now if we're done chatting,' said the other man. 'Get to work.' 

'Mercer, aren't you forgetting something?' said Brynjolf. 

'Hmm? Oh, yes. Since Brynjolf assures me you'll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you're in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild.'

_Great_ , I thought to myself as I turned on my heel to leave the cistern, when Brynjolf's hand fell on my shoulder. I whirled, glaring at him. 'What?'

'A word of advice about the job,' he said. 'Don't burn the place to the ground. Maven might be gone, but the meadery is up for sale, and we'll be looking to make a deal with whoever buys it. Nobody will buy it without Goldenglow to supply it.'

'Fine. What should I do with the owner?' 

'Best to leave him alive, but if he tries to stop you from getting the job done, kill him. The Guild has a lot riding on this. Don't muck this up, lass, or we'll both be in trouble.'


	19. Discord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

The sun was up by the time Eira came back. I was waiting at my desk, arms folded, full of rage when she walked in, frowning at the expression on my face.

'What's wrong?' she had the audacity to ask.

'Where have you been?' I demanded.

She bit her lip. 'I went to the Guild. But I didn't take the job they offered me.'

I glared at her. 'Don't lie to me.'

'I'm not!' she hissed. 

I stood and shoved my chair aside hard enough that it flew across the small room, balling my fists. 'So Goldenglow Estate spontaneously combusted, did it?! I heard your Shout from here, Eira. A hypocrite _and_ a liar.'

She huffed. 'I'm only doing what I need to do to protect us!'

'How dare you lie to me!' I yelled.

'Shut up! You want the whole keep to hear you?!'

'I don't give a shit if the whole of Tamriel hears me! I wouldn't even think of lying to you, let alone going behind your back to join a criminal organisation and staying out all night burning down farms, leaving you afraid for my safety!'

'Sorry for trying to avoid being murdered,' she growled.

'When are you going to get it into your head that you can't just do what you like and disregard how anyone else feels about it?'

'Believe me, I know that,' she hissed. 'I know too well this cage I'm in. Why, I'll never be free to do what I want ever again!'

'If you can't handle responsibility, you shouldn't have taken any on.' 

'Maybe you're right! Maybe I shouldn't have adopted two children, or married Vilkas, or took on places in courts and estates. Maybe I should have been a bit quicker stepping up to the chopping block in Helgen. Maybe I shouldn't even be thinking of marrying you.' 

'Then don't.' 

Eira glared at me and pulled the engagement ring off her finger, slamming it on my desk. 'Fine.' She turned and threw the doors open, storming out of the keep, letting them slam behind her. I collapsed into my chair, trying to hold myself together, massaging my aching head.

'I warned you,' came a voice I certainly did not want to hear. Vilkas loitered in the doorway, leaning against a post. 'She'll break your damned heart.'

I tried to maintain some composure. 'Is there a reason you're here?' 

'Orders just came in from Whiterun,' he said, handing me a scroll. 'We're to withdraw from Riften immediately.'

'Right. You can leave now.' 

Vilkas turned to go, but paused and looked back. 'You know, you don't need to rely on Eira for protection or money anymore. You've got your own job, your own titles, and the Jarl would be more than happy to offer you a house.'

'Mind your own business and get out of my office.' 

Vilkas shrugged. 'Suit yourself,' he said, his footsteps gradually fading away. 

With only myself for company, I found myself thinking of home. I may not have viewed Skyrim with the same distaste as before, but I still longed for the sandy shores and colourful forests of Auridon. What would I do when we got there? I could look for my mother and father, if they weren't dead, or hadn't fled persecution. Would I want to stay, after all these years? That's if I even survived that long, or if we even followed through with the plan to take down the Thalmor on their own ground. 

'They've taken Dawnstar and Morthal!' Vindar cried as he rushed into my office, panting. 'That's...that's good, right?'

I rolled my eyes. 'Not exactly, but it's what we want. Haven't you got injured people to see to?'

He shook his head, still gasping for breath. 'They're all up. Or dead. Gods, I'm tired.'

'Tough. I have a task for you. Go and find Eira.'

He gave a half-hearted salute and dragged himself outside, tripping over as he went, and I shook my head, deciding I ought to start organising men for the journey back.


	20. Karliah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

Karliah was her name, as I'd finally discovered after pursuing Gulum-Ei to his hideout. She was the one behind Goldenglow and all the attempts to isolate the Guild from Maven. I had hope now that if I could track this woman down and kill her, the Guild would consider my debt repaid, and let me go. 

Of course, things never go that simply in my life. When I'd returned to Riften, the entire force had gone, Ondolemar included. Aerin had brought me a note, his scribbled writing telling me to go back to Whiterun, but I had to sort things with the Guild first. Rather than letting me track down Karliah and put an end to their troubles, Mercer had insisted we go together. 

Only then, he'd stabbed me in the back. Or rather, in the guts. I was aware of the cold wind stinging my cheeks as I woke, my mind filling with murderous thoughts. A figure was hunched over me, violet eyes shimmering in the dull light. I tried to push myself up, my head spinning.

'Easy, easy,' said Karliah. 'Don't get up so quickly. How are you feeling?'

'You...you shot me!'

'No, I saved your life. My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out. Had I intended to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation.'

I let out a sigh and slumped, trying to look down at my wound. My armour had been removed, and my tunic underneath was stained with sticky, dark blood. I was weak - despite the poison, I'd lost a lot of blood. 

'Why?' I asked her. 'Why save me?'

'My original intention was to use that arrow on Mercer, but I never had a clear shot. I made a split second decision to get you out of the way and it prevented your death.'

'You should have shot Mercer instead,' I grumbled. 

'I promise you, the thought crossed my mind. The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect; I only had enough for a single shot.' She slumped down beside me, crossing her legs. 'All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive. He must be brought to the Guild to answer for what he's done. He needs to pay for Gallus's murder.'

'But they won't believe you. How will you prove it?'

'My purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn't simply for irony's sake. Before both of you arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus's remains. I suspect the information we need is written inside.'

'Well what does it say?'

She shrugged. 'I wish I knew. The journal is written in some sort of language I've never seen before.'

I gestured for her to hand me the journal, and she did, albeit a little reluctantly. I opened it and studied the pages, narrowing my eyes.

'It's in the Falmer language,' I concluded. Karliah's eyes widened.

'Can you read it?'

'No, but someone at the College might be able to translate it if you take it there.'

'Enthir...Gallus's friend at the College of Winterhold. Of course...he's the only outsider Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity.'

'Wait...Enthir knows about all this?' I narrowed my eyes. I let him go about his dodgy dealing for the most part, unless he attempted to smuggle drugs into the College, since I had too many other more important duties to see to. I'd had no idea he was involved with the Guild. Maybe I should have guessed.

'You know him?' asked Karliah.

I let out a small groan. 'I'm the Archmage.'

She blinked at me, as if not sure whether I was joking or not, then tilted her head. 'But that means...you're Eira Galethien.'

I sighed. 'Unfortunately.'

'But what are you doing with the Guild? You have no need for wealth, and last I heard, you were leading the resistance against the Thalmor.'

'Mercer threatened to have me assassinated for killing Maven Black-Briar,' I explained. 'Brynjolf tried to help me out by making him offer the chance to make amends through working for the Guild. Now I wish I'd taken on the Brotherhood.' 

'Will you still help me?'

I nodded. 'I'm in too deep to turn back now. Might as well finish what I've started.' I frowned. 'What's a Nightingale?'

'There were three of us. Myself, Gallus and Mercer. We were a anonymous splinter of the Thieves Guild in Riften. Perhaps I'll tell you more about it later. Right now, you need to head for Winterhold with the journal and get the translation. Here, take these as well, they may prove useful for your journey.'

'You're not coming?'

'I'm afraid not. There are preparations to make and Gallus' remains to lay to rest. I promise to join you there as soon as I can.'

With that, she headed back into the ruins, leaving me alone with the snow, clutching Gallus' journal. I frowned down at it, then finally struggled to my feet, sending one final healing spell through myself before trudging towards the College.

**********

'Enthir,' I said, poking my head into his door. He looked up, startled, shielding something from my view with a defensive glint in his eyes. 'My quarters, please.'

Worry cast a shadow over his features as he reluctantly got up from his desk, sweeping whatever he was doing into the drawer and following me up to my quarters. Other students and masters offered me friendly greetings but shot Enthir a wary glance as we passed. 

'Archmage, I promise you that gold was genuine stuff. I found it a few miles outside of town! In the ground, of course. Not in ingots - '

'Stop jabbering,' I said. 'This isn't a disciplinary action, Enthir. I have a favour to ask.' 

I shut the door behind him as we entered my quarters and invited him to sit opposite my desk. His expression lightened.

'A favour? Well, that I can do. What did you have in mind?'

'First of all,' I said. 'You are to swear to me that the information I'm about to give you will remain between you, me and or mutual friend.'

'Our mutual friend?'

'Swear it.' 

'Alright, I promise to keep this secret, whatever it is.'

'Good.' I produced the journal and handed it to him. Understanding bloomed on his face at the symbol of the Nightingales on the front. 'This is the journal of Gallus Desidenius. A friend of yours, I believe. It's written in the Falmer language and Karliah needs it translated. Can you do it?'

'No. However, I know someone who might. The court wizard of Markarth, Calcelmo, may have the materials you need to get this journal translated. A word of warning - Calcelmo is a fierce guardian of his research. Getting the information won't be easy.'

I sighed. 'I thought as much. I'll stop in Whiterun on my way.'

Enthir nodded. 'Calcelmo is stubborn as a mother mule. Be careful when you speak to him.'

'Keep your lips sealed, Enthir.'

He grinned. 'Your secret's safe with me, Archmage.'


	21. Estranged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

'There are only two access points into Solitude,' Balgruuf was saying at yet another long, pointless war conference in which we all disagreed and achieved nothing. 'From the docks, and from the mountains. It's practically impenetrable.'

'Then how did the Dominion manage to overrun it?' argued Igmund, who had joined us in Whiterun mostly to escape all the trouble in Markarth that had sparked up. 

'The element of surprise,' I said. 'Which we lack. General Tullius wasn't expecting an invasion, so he wasn't prepared for it. The lands west of it are largely uninhabited, meaning when the ships neared the shore they weren't spotted in time for anyone to send word. If anyone in High Rock saw them pass, word would have taken at least a week to arrive, needing to be sent through northern Hammerfell and to Falkreath. That is how the Dominion overran Solitude.' 

'Then there's little hope,' said Brunwulf. 'The mountain road and the docks will be too well defended.'

A skirmish started up from downstairs, followed by thudding footsteps. Proventus darted up the stairs into the conference, his eyes wide, breathing heavily.

'My lords, the Jarl of Hjaalmarch has just arrived!'

Before I could question what he was saying, Joric struggled up the stairs, battered and bruised, a gash cut from the corner of his lip to his eye. 

'Fetch Danica,' I barked at one of the guards. 'And Sissel.'

'No,' Joric croaked. 'Don't let her see me in this state.'

'What in the gods' names happened?' demanded Balgruuf. 'We thought Morthal was under the control of the Thalmor.'

'It is,' he answered, slumping down into a chair. 'I had to flee. They wanted to use my gifts for their own purposes. They nearly killed me.' 

'Alright, lad,' said Brunwulf. 'You did well to get here safely.'

Joric leaned his elbows against the table and out his head in his hands, pulling at his hair. 'My housecarl held them off so I could escape. I suppose he's dead.' He looked up, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes. 'When is the assault on Solitude happening?'

'That's what we're discussing,' said Nenya. 

'When they found out I had the Sight, I was in the middle of a vision,' said Joric. 'One of the most intense for a long time.'

'A vision of what?' asked Mjoll. 

'The past,' he answered. 'Potema, the Wolf-Queen. Eira went into the catacombs to retrieve her remains for consecration. There was a platform on the mountainside leading into the catacombs.'

'Are you suggesting we try to get men into Solitude that way?' Balgruuf asked, folding his arms. 'Scaling a mountain first?'

'Getting down is easy,' interrupted a voice that made nerves flutter in my stomach. Eira strode into the conference room, giving Joric a gentle pat on the shoulder. 'Maybe we shouldn't be trying to get men into Solitude. Maybe we should be trying to get them out to join our forces.' She caught my eye, but I looked away quickly, dreading to think what she'd been doing.

'Now here's a woman I'm glad to see,' declared Balgruuf, beaming at her. 'Where have you been, my friend?'

'Business,' she said matter-of-factly. 'I'm sad to say I'm only passing through on my way to Markarth.'

I noticed a few pairs of eyes glancing between us, probably wondering why we appeared to be ignoring each other. I wished I could blend in, turn invisible, fade into the shadows. And I was raging inside at how she just announced her plans to several Jarls, their stewards, housecarls and legates, without the slightest thought to discuss it with me first. All I wanted was to feel like how I felt mattered, _for once_. 

'We need you to be around before we attempt to take Solitude,' said Caius, glancing my way, maybe saving me from having to say anything.

'Agreed,' said Balgruuf. 'To have your dragons and your Voice at our disposal would be invaluable, not to mention how you're the one who inspired people to fight back. Our soldiers feel safer knowing they're being led by you.'

'I will be back on time, I promise,' she said. 'But there are things I must attend to that cannot wait.' 

Danica rushed in, followed by two acolytes, huddling around Joric. I took the sudden hustle and bustle as a chance to beckon Eira to follow me to the Great Porch, walking slowly to the very end without a word, not knowing what to say. She sighed and perched on the wall whilst I looked out across the plains to Eastmarch, scowling.

'So,' I finally muttered. 'What now?'

'What do you mean?'

'I want you to listen to me, Eira. Really listen to me.'

'I do - '

'Please don't interrupt me.'

She huffed. 'Fine. Make your speech or whatever it is you want to do.' 

'This isn't working,' I said. It felt so wrong. My heart was already screaming at me to stop, a dull throb in my chest, my stomach in knots. 'We're being torn apart. I don't want that, but I also don't want whatever this is that we've become.' I didn't dare look her in the eye, because I knew if I did, I would cave in on myself. Did that make me a coward? 

'Are you...are you leaving me?' she whispered hoarsely, her voice trembling.

'I was under the impression you wanted that,' I said bitterly, producing the ring from my pocket. I placed it on the wall between us, watching it catch the sunlight like a burst of flame. 

'No...I didn't mean it,' she protested. 'That was just something stupid I did in the moment.'

'What makes the things you do in the moment stupid?' I wondered aloud. 'Surely the wisest course of action is the one you think of when you're surrounded by the feelings that motivate you, in the right place and time. Maybe what we say in the moment isn't stupid, but the truth, raw and harsh and unforgiving, the truth we spend the rest of the time repressing.'

'You're wrong,' she said. 'Please don't do this. I can't lose you, Ondolemar. I'll fall apart.'

'We're already losing each other. You need freedom, I need stability. That's never going to match up, is it?' I looked at my hands, weathered and calloused by fighting. 'I think...we should separate. Just for a while, to see how we find it. I asked the Balgruuf the other day if I could buy the house that used to belong to your steward at Heljarchen Hall, and it's ready for me whenever I want it.'

Eira made a noise of exasperation. 'You just went ahead and arranged to move out without even telling me?'

I looked at her at last, angry and broken, my soul aching, unashamed tears streaming down my cheeks. 'You mean you don't like me making plans without bothering to run them past you? I'm _terribly_ sorry.'

'There's no need to be an arse,' she croaked, shaking. 'Gods, Ondolemar. Seven years.' 

'I know,' I breathed. 

'What will I tell Sofie and Sissel?'

'The truth.' 

'They'll be heartbroken. _I'm_ heartbroken. I love you so much.' Her voice cracked and she choked on a sob. I shook my head, looking down again.

'I love you too, Eira. More than anything. But we need to be happy, and I don't know if we can be.' 

I turned and headed back inside, wiping my eyes, steeling myself. I could still hear her crying as I headed back into the palace, trying to ignore my burning heart.


	22. Passion Never Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

I thought about him in every waking moment. He kept me awake at night, and when I finally fell asleep, he haunted my dreams. I thought of him happy without me to take him for granted or undervalue him. I thought of that harlot Magge creeping into his bed. I thought of all the times I'd ever argued with him, been harsh for no reason, let him go unappreciated, and wished to Auriel I could turn back time. 

Several near-death experiences in Calcelmo's laboratory, a reluctantly-taken Nightingale's oath and a long journey to return the Skeleton Key to the Twilight Sepulchre later, I found myself returning to the Cistern, exhausted and miserable, but glad to have the whole nasty business finished with. Of course, being a Nightingale would have it's complications; I was now as deep in the Guild as one could get. Still, my wretched soul was promised to almost anyone who would have it. There was no telling where I'd go when the cruel world was done with making me save it. Maybe I'd have a dragon slay me in combat and take my soul into it's own, letting me fly free through the centuries until Auriel called us home. 

I was surprised to find Karliah had beaten me to it getting there. I'd left her at the Twilight Sepulchre, still raw from seeing Gallus' ghost. It had made me feel a thousand times worse - I'd let my relationship slip away and crumble, had let it all go to waste. Karliah and Gallus never really had a chance. I couldn't imagine the pain it would cause me if Ondolemar died, didn't want to. It was bad enough that he was leagues away in Whiterun, living in a different house, no longer a warm pair of arms to welcome me home. 

'I suppose now that Mercer's been dealt with and you've helped us restore the Key, you'll be wanting to leave,' said Brynjolf, a sad smile on his face. Karliah wasn't looking at me, and I felt a pang of guilt. There was something powerful between the three of us now, an unexplainable connection. 

'I'm needed elsewhere,' I muttered. 'But...I'll be sure to come and visit. And of course, if I'm ever needed here, I'll come.'

Brynjolf grinned. 'I told you lass, you all come round eventually.'

I rolled my eyes and made myself smile. 'Alright, you win.'

'If you need any help with the war effort, let us know,' said Karliah quietly. 

'Yeah, there ain't much love for the Thalmor among us,' said Delvin, leaning on a nearby wall. 'If you need any supplies smuggled anywhere or any shipments meddled with, you know who to send for.' 

'Will you come back soon?' asked Karliah. I met her eyes for a moment. They were full of pain and courage. 

'As soon as I can,' I promised. 

'Now all that's left is to decide who's going to run this place,' said Brynjolf. 'To be honest, lass, we would have been happy to have had you as our new Guildmaster. In a month you've completely turned things around here.'

'Then I leave it to you to decide,' I said. 'I know you said you didn't want it, Brynjolf, but I think you'd make a good leader.'

'Cheers, lass. We'll see you around.'

'See you around.'

*********

I decided not to call on Odahviing to take me back to Whiterun; I could do with the time to think. Besides, as much as I loved the flying, it was poor weather for it. Walking the roads of Skyrim reminded me of my adventuring days wandering between the holds, with a song in my heart to ward off the gloom, as the bards always said. I tried to return to that state of mind now, humming an old song they used to sing in the taverns of Firsthold, one I couldn't remember the words to. It brought me a little strength, but it reminded me of Ondolemar. He still remembered a lot of the songs and the dances that went with them, re-taught some of them to me. Gods, I missed him. I always did when I went away, but this time when I came home, he wouldn't be there to hold me.

Of course, he was at the barracks outside the city, overseeing exercises in the pouring rain. Magge lingered at his shoulder, and I fixed her a glare. Ondolemar glanced up but quickly looked away, frowning down at the instructions he was reciting from a checklist. Huffing to myself, I made a point to flip my hair over my shoulder and turn my head to the sky. 'Lok Vah Koor!' 

My voice trembled through the heavens, turning heads as the clouds shrunk into white wisps on an azure canvas, and surely enough he looked up, an intense glint in his eyes. I held his stare, though it hurt, and my instinct tried to tell me to run into his arms, but I folded my hands behind my back and carried on into the city. 

Breezehome was empty, so I dropped off my things, washed and changed, then headed out again. I took a detour past the house that had once belonged to Uthgerd, and now belonged to Ondolemar, and narrowed my eyes, feeling for the lockpick in my pocket. Perhaps now was the time to put the skills the Guild had taught me to good use.

In under a minute I'd clicked open the lock and slipped into the house. Light streamed in through the narrow windows, illuminating dust that floated in the air. He'd certainly turned it into his lair - stacks of books lay everywhere, broken quills littering his desk, a half-eaten bowl of soup left to go cold on the table. What would he do if he caught me in here? But he wouldn't. He didn't finish work until dark, and it was only mid-afternoon.

I went upstairs and sat on the edge of the bed, rummaging through the dresser. I scowled at the clothes that I remembered buying for him, careful to fold them like he did and set them aside, digging through until my hands caught on a slip of paper. I drew it out and unfolded it, surprised to see my own writing dancing across the page. It was a note I'd written a couple of months ago, before I left for the Reach, reminding him to get plenty of rest and drink enough in the hot weather. I'd dabbed a drop of my perfume at the bottom - when I held the spot to my face, I could faintly smell lavender and lemon.

'What do you think you're doing?'

Ondolemar was stood in the doorway, glaring at me. I put the note down and sprung to my feet. 'I just - I wanted - you're meant to be at work!'

'Yes, and you're meant to be anywhere except in this house,' he growled. 'I see those thieves taught you well. Now leave, or I'll call the guards.'

I stepped towards him, grinning. 'You wouldn't do that,' I whispered. 

'I will. Please remove yourself from my property.' 

'Grumpy,' I teased, close enough now to touch him. He was still glaring, but the intensity in his eyes wasn't born of hatred or resentment. I knew that look. It was the look he gave me when he knew full well I was toying with him, and when he was enjoying every second of it. 

'I just want to get my documents and go back to the training grounds,' he grumbled. 'So please go away.' 

'Admit it,' I purred, tilting my head up, batting my eyelashes at him, delighting at the colour that rose in his cheeks, at the breath I heard catch in his throat. 'You love the fact that I bothered to come here. You love that I want to be surrounded by you. You love that I found that note in your dresser.'

'I'd love you to get out of my house.'

I chuckled. 'Be as stubborn as you want, my love. Deny me as long as you can. Let's see how long it takes before you give in.' I reached forward and touched his cheek, making him wince and draw back a little, but not enough to put himself out of my reach. It took all my willpower not to dive into my desire to kiss him, touch him, map out the familiar landscape of his body with the gentle caresses of my hands. I pulled back and left the house, both angered at him resisting me and thrilled by the game. 

I strode to Jorrvaskr, uncaring for the confused glances sent my way as I marched into the middle of the courtyard, catching Vilkas' eye. 'My swordsmanship is rusty,' I announced. 'Anyone free for training?'


	23. Under the Gildergreen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Usually when I finished for the day I'd return to the house and go straight to my bed, but my earlier encounter with Eira had left me restless. Sighing, I got up and dressed, glancing out of my window - it was dark, but only just. People were still coming up and down the streets. 

The nights weren't stiflingly hot anymore, but now they were turning downright cold. I huddled into my cloak, headed for the Gildergreen to sit beneath its boughs at the bench facing the shrine of Talos. I studied it with weary, heavy eyes, watching Heimskr carefully polishing the statue. I cleared my throat and he whirled, a spark of fear in his eyes, soon replaced with confusion and hesitation.

'Have you come to hear the word of Talos?' he asked uncertainly. I folded my arms and leaned back.

'Can your god fix my wretched heart?' I drawled. 

'No,' Heimskr answered. 'But Talos gives strength to those who ask Him for it. Strength of the arm, the mind, or the heart.' 

'Then ask for some on my behalf. Make a filthy heretic of me. Or better yet, sell me to the Daedra and let my soul rot in Oblivion for all eternity.'

'Do not speak blasphemy in comparing mighty Talos to those wicked beings,' Heimskr growled. 'He is a god of hope, a reminder that we may ascend from the dung of mortality to walk among the stars as He did, and shed our flesh prisons to live eternally in spirit. You elves spend all your time trying to unmake the world that was gifted to us to try and make yourselves divine, all the while shunning Talos, who was made divine by His greatness.'

I snorted. 'Leave me to my misery, fool.' 

'Fine. If you change your mind, I hold a service in my house every Morndas night at eight.'

'I won't change my mind.' 

He marched off into the shadows, and I almost missed his company, purely because being alone gave my thoughts a chance to surface. It wasn't long until someone else approached me and plonked down on the bench.

'It's starting to get dark early,' said Sofie. 'It'll be the last harvest before we know it, then only a couple of months to midwinter. I'm sure time goes faster every year.'

'After seven decades of it getting faster, you struggle to keep up,' I replied. 

She sighed. 'When are you going to come home? This whole situation is foolish.'

'How so?'

'You love Ma, and she loves you. That much is pretty obvious.'

'Love isn't enough. You'll understand that when you get older.'

She tutted. 'I _am_ older. I understand more than you give me credit for. We need you, Ondolemar. Ma is an absolute mess, Sissel misses you, and so do I. Even Vindar misses you.'

I smirked. 'Now I know you're lying.' 

She chuckled. 'Alright, maybe about that one. The point is, whether you like it or not, we're your family, and we're not going to give up on you easily. So when you come to your senses, we'll be waiting to welcome you home.'

'I can't come back, Sofie,' I croaked, holding back the emotions that threatened to sweep me away. Of course I wanted to run back to Breezehome and hide my uncertainty away, but I knew I needed to find out what I wanted. 'If I do, I'll never find what I'm looking for.'

'And what are you looking for?'

'Myself.'

'Mid-life crisis, is it?'

I frowned. 'I'll have you know I'm nowhere near mid-life yet. Although I will admit to it being a crisis. Being in the Thalmor destroys you. They wipe away everything you are and replace it with who they want you to be until eventually you start accepting yourself as another piece of their games. Your mother had time to find herself again, but I never did.'

'You had years in the College.'

'The College was an easy place to bury it all,' I explained. 'But I can't do that anymore. Not now that I have the means to do otherwise.' 

She fell quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond. Eventually she reached out and put her arms around me. I tried not to show my weakness, holding back tears, stroking her hair as a gentle sob escaped her throat. 

'Promise me you'll just think about it,' she begged, looking up at me with bloodshot, teary eyes. 'Things aren't the same without you. It's like...it's...'

'Like what?' I whispered.

She let out a long breath. 'It's like when Ma split with Vilkas all over again, but worse, because you were a better father, a better partner, and a better man than him. We need you.'

'I'm never going to stop being there for you and Sissel,' I told her. 'Regardless of whether me and your mother are together or not. I won't just stop caring about you. If you ever need me, I'm just around the corner.' 

'It's not the same,' she despaired. 'Ma went to Jorrvaskr today. She was training with him.' 

I scowled. 'With Vilkas?'

Sofie nodded. 'I don't want her to go back to him. I argued with her about it when she told us. That's why I'm out here - I needed to get out of the house, and Vindar's off with his 'new friends' from the healer's division at the Bannered Mare, forgetting I exist. I don't even know how I'll face her.'

'Then come with me,' I told her. 'I'll go and tell your mother where you are, and you can have my bed. I won't sleep anyway.' 

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't offer otherwise.'

She beamed up at me, wiping away her tears. 'Alright then.' 

'Here, take the key,' I said, handing it to her. 'Go and make yourself comfortable. I'll be there soon.' 

She faded into the night and I watched her go, happy and miserable and furious all at once. I stood and headed for Breezehome, bracing myself before I knocked on the door.

Eira answered, still fully dressed, thunder on her face, probably expecting Sofie to be stood there. Her brows shot up in surprise to see me instead.

'Sofie told me you had an argument,' I said. 'And wanted to stay with me for the night to let things die down a bit. Is that alright with you?'

'I suppose so,' she answered. 'Did she tell you what it was about?'

'Briefly.'

'It's not what you're thinking.'

'I'm not thinking anything. Do whatever makes you happy.'

'For gods' sakes,' she hissed. 'It's not like that. I just wanted to work off some anger. What better way than to smash Vilkas up with a sword?'

'Did you imagine he was me whilst you were doing that?'

She rolled her eyes. 'No.' I raised an eyebrow, and she huffed. 'Alright, maybe a bit.'

'Fair enough.' A moment of silence fell between us, lasting too long. I cleared my throat. 'Can you bring out a change of clothes for her?'

She nodded and headed inside. The fire pit glowed with inviting warmth, gilding Eira's hair as she rummaged around in drawers, scrawling something on a piece of paper and folding up a dress. The light made her eyes sparkle, even from a distance. I remembered when we had stood in Ivarstead together, watching the aurora, and how I would have given my life for a single kiss. I felt like that now, my heart aching.

'Here,' she said, coming back to the door with the dress, note and a bottle of Honningbrew mead. 'Tell her I said I'm sorry for kicking off.' 

'I will. Goodnight, Eira.' Her name tasted of pine forests, smoke and wildflowers, ringing with power the way a dragon's name did if ever anyone dared to speak it. She blushed a little, turning her gaze away.

'Goodnight, Ondolemar.'


	24. Here Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

I had been ready to go out and search for Sofie when Ondolemar had showed up. She didn't come back the next morning either, but at least I had slept easily knowing she was in safe hands. 

Of all the foolish things for her to assume. My trying to be friendly with Vilkas was born out of trying to make Ondolemar jealous, which was probably entirely inappropriate. Still, it meant nothing to me romantically. I wouldn't take Vilkas back if he was the last man on Nirn. 

I went up to train at Jorrvaskr again that day; it was a useful distraction from everything that was going on, and it wouldn't hurt to shape up for a battle. I rarely used weapons other than daggers, preferring my magic, but you never know when you might be vulnerable on a battlefield, your magicka depleted and the only thing you can defend yourself with being a dead man's warhammer. 

'You're still not balancing yourself properly,' Vilkas said after my lousy swings as I rubbed my complaining arms. 'You almost toppled right over there. Your problem is that you're tall, so you're easier to pull over.'

'I don't know why I'm bothering,' I grumbled. 'I'll spend most of the time on Odahviing anyway.'

'And if Odahviing is shot down and killed?'

'He won't be,' I argued.

'How about we take a break?' He suggested. 'There's no use overstraining your muscles or they won't recover in time for tomorrow.' 

I followed him to a table and slumped down with a sigh resting my elbow on it. 'I let myself grow weak in the College. And flabby.'

'Flabby? Where?'

'My backside.'

Vilkas laughed. 'Don't be stupid.' He shifted in his seat, lacing his hands together. 'So, I uh...heard Ondolemar left you.'

'Hmph. I was wondering how long it would take for you to bring that up.'

'I wanted to say if you need anything, the Companions will be glad to help.'

I snorted. 'Don't take this the wrong way, but you've not exactly been nice about us before.'

'What can I say? I won't deny I'm sort of glad. Not that you're hurt, but that he lost in the end.'

I tutted. 'It's not a game. I wish the two of you wouldn't treat me like a prize to win.'

'Sorry. It's just...'

'What?'

'You know I still love you, don't you?'

I sighed. 'Vilkas...'

'I know you don't love me anymore,' he muttered. 'And...well, it's not alright, but I've learned to live with it. Eira, if you ever thought about giving us another shot - '

'That's not going to happen,' I murmured. 'It's the past.' 

'I just don't think you ever really gave us a chance,' he argued. 'You were always away, and I know you had to be, but now that you're here, we could try and rekindle what we might have had.'

'But there's nothing left to rekindle,' I told him. 'The ashes are cold. I'll always love you for the brotherhood you offered me, the laughs we had, the strength you coaxed out of me when I was weak. But I'm not _in love_ with you. What we had was wonderful, but it fizzled out. Even if we did try again, it wouldn't be the same, not with all that water under the bridge.' 

'You still love him, don't you? Even after what he's done to you.'

'I'm not without blame, Vilkas. I took Ondolemar for granted. And yes, of course I still love him. That makes it a million times worse.' 

Vilkas sniffed. 'He'll come crawling back to you, sooner or later. You're too good a catch to let go. I think that's probably the only thing he and I could ever agree on.' 

I smiled. 'I hope you're right. Can we put the past in the past now? I don't want to be fought over. No more talking about me behind my back to try and stir things up, either. I don't expect the two of you to ever be friends, just leave each other be.'

'I'll try. No promises.'

**********

Sofie and Sissel were sat beneath the Gildergreen with Ondolemar. I blushed, conscious of how sweat was sticking my hair to my brow and coating my skin. I probably smelled like horker shit. I thought about heading back to Jorrvaskr, cleaning myself up and changing out of my armour, but he'd already seen me. Too late. I cursed under my breath and headed down the steps.

'Sofie,' I said, smiling down at my daughter. 'Are we alright now?'

She nodded. 'Yeah. I'm sorry for running out.'

'I'm sorry for upsetting you.' 

I avoided eye contact with Ondolemar, but I could feel the weight of his stare on me the way I had all those years ago in Markarth, and every time a look between us had lingered in those awkward moments before our affair, full of unvoiced desire. 

'Where are Vindar and Joric?' I asked.

'Joric's at Dragonsreach,' said Sissel, glancing at Sofie uncertainly. 'Vindar - '

'Let's not talk about _him_ ,' Sofie grumbled. 

'Why?' I said. 'Has something happened?'

'He's being a prick,' Sofie said. 'Never has any time for me these days.' She was fiddling with the pendant around her neck, the one he had made for her birthday. Her eyes were reddening, filling with unshed tears.

Ondolemar scowled. 'He needs a kick up the backside. Or in the groin.' 

'He's a young lad,' I said. 'Of course he wants to go out with his friends and drink and fight.'

'He's in his forties!' Sofie argued. 

'That's like him being a sixteen year old human,' I said.

'Still old enough to know not to treat a young woman like dirt,' said Ondolemar. 

'Give him the cold shoulder,' I told her. 'The minute you start acting like you don't care, he'll panic and come to your heel like an obedient hound.'

'Does that even work?' she said.

'Of course it does. You've got to train him up, dear.' 

She grinned. 'Sissel, fancy a drink?'

Sissel smirked and rose to follow her to the Bannered Mare, leaving me alone with Ondolemar. I cleared my throat, folding my arms.

'Was she alright last night?'

He nodded. 'Out like a light.'

'Well...thank you for having her.' I frowned. 'Where did she actually sleep?'

'In my bed. I don't sleep much these days.'

'Why?'

'Too much on my mind, usually.'

'You look shattered.'

'That's because I am. I'm used to it, though.' 

A moment of silence passed, then I jerked my head towards the Plains District. 'Right, well, I should go get cleaned up for the conference later.' 

He nodded stiffly. 'See you there.' 

I turned to go, then paused. 'Ondolemar?'

'Yes?' He was watching me carefully, his stare lingering on my arms, my shoulders, the exposed skin of my midriff, my breasts pushed up by the flimsy hide armour I was wearing. I wanted to beg him to take me back, promise I would do better this time, or invite him back to my empty house and make him remember a thousand cold Winterhold nights made warmer by kisses on the neck and my skin against his. I wanted that ring back on my finger and our stupid dancing that the girls found embarrassing, his arms around me when I had nightmares about all the battles I'd ever faced, to breathe him in and listen to his heartbeat. 

'Thanks again,' I finally said, almost running back home and locking myself in, shaking.


	25. Morndas Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

We would head for Solitude in three days. A group of us were to ride ahead - me, Eira, a couple of legates and a party of soldiers - and liberate as many Imperial soldiers as possible, plus General Tullius. 

I should have left the war council feeling glad that for once we'd actually achieved something, but my mind was occupied. I came to the Gildergreen again, looking up at the statue of Talos, frowning. I'd never liked it, being a symbol of idolatry, yet something about it made me always pay it attention. Initially I'd thought it was just years of conditioning to pick up on the slightest hint of Talos-worship, but now I wasn't so sure. Heimskr's house was just opposite it, firelight glowing in the window. Today was Morndas, and it was ten minutes past eight.

Warmth hit me as I pushed open the door, interrupting the priest's voice and inviting a dozen pairs of eyes to stare at me. Immediately I regretted this foolish venture, but the priest opened the door wider for me, a stupid grin on his face.

'Come on in,' he said. 'There's plenty of room in here.' 

Reluctantly I obliged and perched on one of the pews in the makeshift temple of his living area, listing the faces I recognised - Eorlund, Fralia and Olfina Gray-Mane, Ulfberth and Adrianne, a couple of the guards, Njada Stonearm and a few soldiers I vaguely recognised. 

Heimskr returned to the front, raising his arms as he read from a book on a lectern. 'Talos Stormcrown, Ysmir, heir to the Seat of Sundered Kings! For your blessing we pray. As your greatness led you to the favour of the Divines, guide us to our own destinies, so that we too may find everlasting glory. Whether we are warriors, healers, smiths, carpenters or tradesmen, man or woman, strong or feeble, help us all to find our own greatness. Lead us to the mists of Sovngarde, to revel in Shor's halls forever. 

We pray that you will watch over us and our loved ones, and bring strength to our soldiers in the times ahead, who fight to liberate us from those who would silence we who praise you. In your name, we fight. By your grace, we are victorious.' 

Heimskr lowered his hands and looked at the congregation. 'You may approach the altar to receive the blessing of Talos. Keep it in your heart, now and always.'

One by one, they rose from the seats and placed their hands upon the shrine, some muttering prayers of their own, others in contemplative silence, then saw themselves out. When I was the last one left, I tried to sneak towards the door unseen whilst Heimskr packed things away.

'Will you receive His blessings?' He asked, pausing to look at me.

'I should go,' I muttered. 

'You came here for a reason.'

'Curiosity.'

'I don't believe you.' 

I narrowed my eyes. 'I don't believe in Talos.'

Heimskr shrugged. 'Then put your hand on the shrine. It won't do anything if you truly don't believe, so what harm is there in it?'

I sighed and approached the shrine, frowning down at it, aware of the priest watching me closely. I tried to glare at him and deter him from staring, but he persisted anyway. I placed my hand on the shrine for a few moments, then pulled it away sharply.

'There,' I said. 'I touched your shrine. May I leave now?'

'You were always free to leave.' 

'Hmph.' 

I strode out into the crisp night air, glad to be out of that stuffy little house, and marched back home.

**********

Yet again I was unable to sleep, drowning in thoughts of Eira, battles not yet fought, that stupid service in Heimskr's tiny house. I rose from my bed, rubbing my eyes, so tired yet so far from sleep. I could have gone out and walked around the city to try and work off some energy and clear my head, but I feared I might end up tumbling down the stairs from my fatigue. I glanced through the window - outside was pitch black, and the street was deserted. It must have been gone midnight. Sighing, I lit a few candles, squinting at the brightness after hours in the dark.

A knock sounded, echoing through the mostly empty house. I wondered who on Nirn would come calling at a time like this, grabbing my dagger and putting the chain on the door before cracking it open. A thin stream of moonlight burst in, illuminating a familiar silhouette in the doorway.

'Legate?' I muttered. 'What are you doing here?'

'Can I come in?' whispered Magge.

I groaned and took the chain off, opening the door fully. 'If this is about the assault on Solitude, the reason you're not coming with the initial party is because - '

'It's not about Solitude,' she interrupted. Her eyes were bright, wide and alert, and she smiled up at me. 'You're alone now. Even if it means nothing to you...I want you.'

'Legate, for Auriel's sake, I can't - '

'It's just a bit of fun,' she insisted. 'Aren't you lonely, shut up in this cold, empty house without a woman to warm your bed? Let me be your company. Let me give you what I know you want.' 

'You know nothing about me.'

She smirked. 'That just adds to the mystery, doesn't it?' Throwing her arms around my neck, she placed her lips on mine. I tried to kiss her back, wondering if it might distract me, or if she was right that it was meaningless. She moaned against my mouth, and I recoiled, pulling away from her. She gazed up at me with hungry eyes, and I turned my head, pushing her away.

'Ondolemar?' she breathed, reaching for me, placing a gentle hand on my lower back. I whirled, and she drew it back quickly.

'Get out,' I hissed. 'Don't ever come here again, understand?'

'Why? This is harmless!'

'No, it isn't,' I spat. 'Not for either of us. You're doing this because you're in love with me, and I'm doing it because I'm trying to pretend you're the one I love. But you're not, and I can't be what you want. So get out, and leave me alone, for both our sakes.' 

Magge backed away and slowly turned to the door, pausing before closing it behind her. 'If you change your mind - '

'I won't. Go.'

She muttered something under her breath and slammed the door. A gust of wind blew out the candles, leaving me to slump against the wall in the darkness, alone again.


	26. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

Rorikstead had more or less been evacuated, leaving behind just a few folk who refused to leave their homes. The rest had fled to the safety of Whiterun's walls, so that should the Thalmor come marching down the road to take the city they wouldn't be burned alive in the warpath. Reldith still worked the fields tirelessly, offering a small, weary smile as we dismounted our horses.

'Passing through to Solitude?' she asked me, and I nodded. 'Rorik and Jouane left for Whiterun yesterday. Ennis has abandoned me. Cowards, the lot of them.'

'Who's left?'

'Me, Mralki, and Britte. Erik enlisted in the army, and Mralki wouldn't leave the inn. I won't let the Thalmor take my farm from me, oh no - they've taken just about enough from me over the years. Britte comes and helps me sometimes, and in return I let her keep some of what she harvests.'

'We're going to drive them out,' I promised her. 'Every last one of them.' 

'See to it that you do.'

'We camp here tonight,' Ondolemar called. 'There's flat ground to pitch tents behind the inn.'

I glared at him as he passed me, but he didn't seem to notice. I'd been trying to ignore his presence all day since what I'd seen the other night, out walking through the streets when I was unable to sleep - that whore of a legate coming out of his house, looking thoroughly dishevelled, messy hair and colour in her cheeks, her clothes creased and haphazardly arranged on her scrawny form. The thought of it made my blood boil.

I followed him to an unused woodshed behind the inn, coming up behind him as he took wood to build a campfire and clearing my throat. He turned, frowning.

'Is something wrong?'

'Tell me,' I hissed. 'Does she still call you 'Commander' when you're fucking her?'

'What?!' he spat. 'I have no idea what you're talking about, but do me a favour and keep your voice down!'

'You know exactly what I'm talking about,' I growled. 'I saw that harlot leaving your house the other night. Looks like it didn't take you long to start missing your usual _comforts_. Does she say your name the way I say it? Does she - '

'Eira, be quiet for gods sakes! I threw her out of my house and told her never to come back, if you must know. Not that it would be any of your business anyway.' 

'Liar,' I rasped. 'Why would you pass up the chance?'

'I'd have thought it was obvious. She isn't you.' 

My heart sank, burning like ice. 'Then why did you leave me?'

'Because no matter how much I love you, it won't change the fact that we want different things.'

'All I want is you.' 

'You want your freedom.'

'I'd give it up in a second!' I cried, not caring for the heads that turned our way, blinking tears from my eyes. 'Do you remember what you said to me seven years ago, just before Vilkas walked in on us? You told me you would die a thousand times upon the sword of a Dominion soldier for me, because your fate is to stay at my side and defend me to the last drop of your blood. You swore to me I'd never have to face my trials alone.' 

'And I've kept that promise,' he answered. 'I would still spend every drop of blood protecting you from harm, and I will still stand at your side through all your trials. Why do I have to be with you to do that?'

I shook my head, defeated, trying my best not to break down and weep like a child, clutching the amulet around my neck that he'd given me all that time ago. It caught the dying light, and he noticed, his brows furrowing slightly.

'I'd give everything for you, Eira,' he said softly. 'But I can't be with someone as headstrong as you.'

'Then I'm _sorry_ that my free will offends you,' I spat, marching back towards the inn, feeling sick.

**********

That night, I dreamt about a thousand days gone by. The mists of my mind cleared as I went into deep sleep, and the walls of my childhood home materialised around me. Black banners trimmed in gold were draped on the walls in my father's closet, which he'd transformed into a shrine for my mother, her portrait in the centre surrounded by candles and her possessions. I studied them through my adolescent eyes, partly in awe and partly disturbed by the memorial, so focused on her achievements as a commander rather than her life as a person. A circlet and necklace gleamed in the candlelight, and my thin, unweathered fingers reached out to touch them, a frown forming on my face.

'She wore those on our wedding day,' my father said, lurking behind me. 

'Was she beautiful?' I asked, my voice higher than it was now, my speech more polished. 

'She was,' he answered. 'As radiant as the sun. I see her beauty in you, daughter. You will fetch a generous dowry some day.' 

Sold to a man like a pretty trinket to decorate his arm. Every Altmer is measured by their appearance. There's a good reason that ugly ones are a rarity, and it's got nothing to do with superiority or the blessings of the gods. The fact is, 'ugly' babies are killed almost as soon as they are born. The stillbirths are lies to cover infanticide, and almost every family is guilty somewhere along the line. 

I turned my gaze to the silk-wrapped robes, and my father smiled in that strange, warped way he did, caressing them. 'She was everything an Altmer should be, Eira. Beautiful, dedicated to the Dominion, full of purpose and vibrance, a loving mother and wife. She made her people proud. One day, when you are older, you will make them - and me - proud too.' 

The dream rippled and the walls of the house crumbled away. I was older now, in a different house, far from Firsthold. It was little more than a shack at the edge of the desert, but I loved it, and so did Thaduin. I looked in his glittering black eyes and smiled, but he turned his head away, grimacing.

'What's wrong?' I asked, reaching for his hand.

'I can never be what you need, you know,' he sighed. 

'What do you mean?'

He gestured downwards, and when I stared at him blankly, he huffed in frustration and blurted, 'I don't have any balls. Literally.' 

It wasn't funny, but I couldn't help smirking anyway, which set him off, shaking his head as he bit down on his laughter. I cackled and leaned back, misjudging the distance and smacking my head on the wall, which only made us laugh harder.

'Seriously though,' Thaduin said, the seriousness returning to his face. 'I can't - we can't even - you know.' 

'I don't care about that,' I replied. 'Well, I care that the bastards did that to you, of course. But I love you, Thaduin. You mean the world to me.'

He sighed. 'I just feel like I can never be good enough for you. What if in ten or twenty years time you wanted a family? I wouldn't be able to give you one. That hurts, Eira.'

I put my hand on his knee. 'Then we'd adopt children, silly. And that's if we ever stop running anyway.' 

Thaduin's expression darkened. 'We probably never will.' 

Then it wasn't Thaduin who was laying next to me, but Vilkas. The old shack in Hammerfell grew into white walls covered in hanging baskets, warm light casting shadows over Vilkas' glowering face.

'Twenty-one days,' he grumbled. 'And you don't even come home straight away.'

'I needed to stop by the College,' I explained for the fiftieth time. 'I found some of Archmage Shalidor's writings in an old fort in Solstheim. Urag needed them.'

'More than your family needed you?'

'I'm only a day later than I would have been.' 

'I had no idea where you where. I've heard nothing since your letter to say you were headed for that wretched island. You could have been dead for all I knew.'

'I'm sorry. Solstheim isn't exactly well-connected.'

'How long will you be home for?'

I bit my lip. 'Erm...a couple of days.'

'A couple of days?! By the gods, Eira, you've been gone for the best part of a month!'

'I know, I know, but there's this Telvanni wizard who needs me to examine a - '

'I don't care about Telvanni wizards and Solstheim and your stupid adventures. Do what you want. You always do anyway.' 

His words reminded me of Ondolemar's. Was I really that bad? Was I impossible to live with? I must have been. I managed with Thaduin because we were both on the run, but my time with Silus had been just the same - he was so kind and loving to me, yet I stabbed him in the back for a thrill. I ditched Vilkas and my children to go traipsing around Skyrim on errands, and then with a new lover who excited me more than my husband did. And now that Ondolemar wanted things to calm down, I had ignored him and lost him as a result. 

Maybe I deserved to be alone.


	27. Dragon Bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Dragon Bridge was teeming with Thalmor when we arrived. They packed themselves onto the bridge and hurled spells our way as I yelled to the others not to let any get away - they would go straight to their superiors at the embassy or in Solitude and inform them of our presence. I threw ice and lightning at them until I had burnt through the last of my magicka, and readied my mace, head pounding from another sleepless night. 

'Wait!' yelled Eira, running in front of us, straight into the line of fire.

'What in Oblivion are you doing?' I bellowed, but she either didn't hear me or chose to ignore me. 

'Ven Gaar Nos!' she Shouted as a ball of flame whizzed towards her and knocked her ten feet back, her flesh singed and clothes afire. The enemy soldiers were blown clear from the bridge, most of them over the sides, by a cyclone that tore through their ranks and into the small town. Eira rolled onto her front to extinguish the flames, crying out with pain. Unable to watch her suffer, I swept over and pulled her to her feet as she mustered a healing spell, coughing awkwardly.

'Thanks,' she muttered, dusting herself off as if she hadn't just been on fire. 'Let's finish them.' 

'Are you - ?'

'I'm fine,' she snapped. 'I said let's go.' 

'Commander!' cried Hearst. He was on the floor, clinging to Jolenta's trembling form as she spat blood onto the road, her dark hair sticking to her face, eyes wide with terror. 

'Oh gods,' Eira murmured as we rushed over. 

'She's lost too much blood,' said Hearst, watching the cracks between the cobbles flow red as Eira tried to heal Jolenta's wounds.

Jolenta held up a weak, shaking hand. 'It's alright,' she croaked, gagging on more blood that bubbled up through her throat. 'I'm ready to go.' 

'But you're so young,' Eira whispered, her face clouded with dismay. 'You've surely not even seen your twentieth year.'

'Nevermind,' she spluttered, reaching into her boot, wincing from the pain. She pulled out a tiny doll, pressing it into Eira's hand. 'Give this to my mother.' 

With one last terrible spray of blood from her throat, Jolenta went limp in Hearst's arms. Eira bowed her head, and the other soldiers turned away. I closed her eyes, shutting away that glazed, deathly stare.

'Auriel keep you,' I muttered, rising to face the crowd of townspeople who had emerged from their homes. 'Somebody fetch us some shovels.'

**********

After three hours of endless digging, Eira, Hearst and I lowered Jolenta's body into her grave on the outskirts of Dragon Bridge. The other soldiers and the townspeople came to pay their respects, throwing offerings into the pit that seemed so unfitting for a woman who had given her life defending what she believed in. Such is the way of war.

'Who's going to speak?' asked Hearst, glancing around. I looked down at my hands, praying no one would ask me to do it, but also ashamed to think that way. 

'I'll do it,' said Eira, saving me the trouble. She cleared her throat. 'On this day, we witness the passing of Jolenta Egnatius, legate of the Legion of Whiterun, freedom fighter, beloved daughter and friend. May her soul ascend to Aetherius, and may she find peace as she walks with her ancestors in the land of the gods.'

A child came forward, a nightshade plant complete with muddy roots resting in his hands. Eira gave a nod, and Hearst and I began to push the dirt back into the grave, covering Jolenta's body. The boy waited until we were done, then shifted some of the dirt to plant the nightshade, stepping back and regarding his work with a confused frown, as though only just awakened to the grim reality of death. 

Hearst had carved Jolenta's name into a flat stone, which he drove into the ground at the head of her grave. The townspeople gradually dispersed, leaving the three of us and the soldiers lingering at the site. I remembered Jolenta's first attempt at passing her basic training, how she'd been doomed to fail at the start. How far she had come, only to fall just a few miles from home. 

'We leave in ten minutes,' I said.

Eira glared at me. 'Can you at least give everyone a while to clear their heads?'

I narrowed my eyes at her. 'I wish I could, but we're short for time and there's still a war to fight. Move out in ten minutes - that's an order.' 

She pursued me as I strode away towards the other end of town, intending to search ahead for Thalmor patrols on the road, and grabbed my shoulder.

'You don't dictate what I do,' she hissed. 

'Actually I do,' I drawled. 'You're here as a military asset, and last I checked, it was my responsibility to make sure assets are appropriately utilised.'

'You're unbelievable,' she breathed, shaking her head. 'One minute you're all over me acting like you care, and the next you refer to me as an 'asset'! What in Oblivion is wrong with you?'

'Just because I'm concerned for your welfare, it doesn't entitle you to disrupt the order of this squadron.' 

'The order of this squadron was disrupted when Jolenta died in Hearst's arms!'

'That's how war works. People die. I'd have thought you would understand sacrifice.'

'How can you treat it like it's nothing? She was Sofie and Sissel's age! Imagine if it was one of them in that shallow grave!'

'Well it isn't!' I snapped. 'Sofie and Sissel are in Whiterun, with a wall to keep the perils of this rebellion out. You think I don't know that Jolenta had a family, friends, was someone's child? I know that perfectly well. Try not to forget that all those Thalmor soldiers you Shouted into the river were also someone's sons and daughters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers. They may be brainwashed, cold, and cruel, but they all had families too.'

'I know,' she croaked. 'I remember the parades. I remember the children waving, the parents cheering, the pride and pomp and the dust that flew up from the ground as we marched in the midsummer heat. I remember the only hint of joy I ever saw in my father's face. So don't for one second think that I don't mourn for our people, Ondolemar, because if I didn't, I wouldn't be willing to sail all the way to Alinor to free them!' 

She stormed back through the town and I sighed, frowning as I caught the eye of a soldier who was lingering nearby, staring at me. 'Problem?' I asked. 

'Er...no!' she gasped, laughing awkwardly. 'No sir. Nothing.' 

I narrowed my eyes. 'How long have you been in the legion, soldier?'

'Since the start,' she answered. 'Sir.' 

'I didn't think any women were assigned to the heavy armour infantry.' 

'Ah, well, uh...there's always an exception!'

I huffed. 'Yes, you seem truly _exceptional_. Now go away.' 

'Yes, sir!' 

I watched her scurry back to the others for a moment, then turned away and headed into the hills.


	28. The Way to Solitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV
> 
> Yep, I'm still alive. Haven't updated in over two months...oops. That's what happens when everything in your life changes suddenly I guess. 
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter at last. I'll try not to vanish for nearly a quarter of a year again.
> 
> (Anyone actually still reading this?)

We camped where I remembered the old Stormcloak camp had once been, concealed beneath the mountain path and shrouded by trees. It was easily past midnight, and I sat overlooking the Karth, sometimes turning my gaze towards the torchlight of Dragon Bridge, where Jolenta's body was laying in the cold ground without even a coffin to dignify her death. An image flashed into my mind of her as a draugr, skin stretched across her bones, her mouth forced open into a scream, eyes glowing with unnatural blue fire.

Sighing, I picked up my lute from beside me and played to the stars once again. It was probably my imagination, but they seemed to shine a little brighter as I strummed a tune absent-mindedly, humming along, not realising what the song was for a few moments until the memories came flying back to me.

I had stood in front of the doors to the Hall of Valour, fog closing in behind me, gawping at the enormity of the place. For a moment, I had wished I'd never gone to Ustengrav to get that wretched horn. Yet when I heard the cries from behind me as Alduin feasted on the souls of the dead, I had steeled myself and pushed open those doors. The Heroes spun to face me, weapons readied, as though they expected the World-Eater to be there in my place. I watched realisation dawn in them as I stepped forward, and they started to chant, hope igniting in their eyes. Their song grew louder and louder, those Kyne-given voices shaking my bones. 

That was the song I was singing to the stars. Maybe they really were shining brighter. Perhaps the Heroes of Sovngarde were looking down at me, singing with me. 

'I've not heard you play that before,' came Ondolemar's voice. My hands froze on the lute as he sat beside me, his armour traded for robes. 

'They sung it to me in Sovngarde,' I said. 

'Who did you see there?' he asked.

I frowned. 'Er...High King Torygg was there. So was Jurgen Windcaller, the founder of the Greybeards, and Olaf One-Eye, and Ysgramor. Plenty of others too. Why?'

'I was just wondering,' he answered. 'It's curious that Tiber Septim wasn't there.'

The thought had never occurred to me before. 'Not from what I saw anyway. That all you wanted from me?'

He frowned, taking a swig from a hip flask. The harsh tang of drink was on his breath, but he was alert and somehow still sober. 'If my presence offends you, I'll take my leave.'

'It's not that,' I sighed. 'You're on the drink again, I see.' 

He shrugged. 'I have nothing better to do.'

'How much?'

'Not that much.'

'Ondolemar, _how much _?'__

__'I've only had half the flask.'_ _

__I raised an eyebrow. 'Oh? And what exactly is in it?'_ _

__'Mead.'_ _

__'Liar.' I grabbed the bottle, ignoring his stuttered protests, and took a swig, coughing a little. 'That's Stros M'kai Rum. Half a flask of that and you're not even drunk?'_ _

__'I'm working on it,' he replied, snatching it back and taking another swig._ _

__'Why are you doing this to yourself?'_ _

__'To drown a lifetime of sorrows, the most recent one laying dead in the ground about two miles away. Then there's the one right next to me, lecturing me about my bad habits.'_ _

__'I can't help caring about you.'_ _

__'Enemy soldiers!' came a harsh whisper as Hearst materialised from the darkness. We darted for the trees, watching from within their shadows as torchlight danced on the road._ _

__'Shall we take them out?' Hearst whispered. Ondolemar shook his head._ _

__'Too many,' he answered, struggling to work out their numbers. 'Let's see if they pass.'_ _

__'If we take them out now, it's less to deal with later on,' Hearst said._ _

__'If any get away they'll report back and the roads will be swarming with them when we try to reach the catacombs,' I said. 'It's too risky.'_ _

__We watched them snake along the road until they disappeared. There must have only been a few dozen of them, but still, it was better to be safe than sorry. I sighed and headed back into the camp, deciding to try and get some sleep._ _

__**********_ _

__The mountain road had been strangely quiet as we headed towards the catacombs. The ledge loomed above us, the climb almost vertical. I had come down it before, just as Joric had seen in his vision, but going up would be a different story._ _

__'What's the plan?' asked Hearst, looking solemnly at the mountain._ _

__'I'll go up alone,' I answered. 'Take out any soldiers in the temple, and steal one of their uniforms. Then I should be able to find General Tullius.'_ _

__'They're probably locked up,' said Ondolemar. 'Him and the Imperial soldiers. You'll have to break them out.'_ _

__'Best to wait for the cover of night, then,' said Hearst. 'But how will you get them all out without being seen?'_ _

__'I don't know,' I admitted. 'A diversion, maybe. Failing that, we'll just have to fight our way out and try to seal them out of the catacombs whilst we escape.'_ _

__'Then we'll be giving up the surprise,' said Ondolemar. 'And we might as well start taking out the docks. It will be a useful distraction.'_ _

__'ODAHVIING!' I Shouted, waiting patiently for my companion to come soaring towards us. Powdery snow flew up from the ground as he landed with a grunt. 'My friend, once again I must ask too much of you.'_ _

__'Hi laan zu'u wah al fin veysun,' he growled. 'You want me to destroy their boats, as I did in Windhelm.'_ _

__I nodded. 'Lost nid aaz. Burn every last one of them.'_ _

__He beat his wings and took to the air, heading south towards Solitude's docks. For a moment we waited in silence, until the first few pillars of smoke rose in the distance, a faint chorus of screaming and roaring carried on the wind. I looked up at the mountain again and sighed, dumping my knapsack and sword in the snow._ _

__'I can't take any weapons up there,' I told the others. 'I've got a dagger on my belt, but other than that I'll have to rely on my magic and whatever I can get once I'm up there. Let's hope no more draugr have woken up since the last time I went in the catacombs.'_ _

__'Good luck, Dragonborn,' said Hearst as I approached the jagged rocks. I glanced back at Ondolemar - his expression was solemn, and he offered me only a nod of acknowledgement. What I would have given to know what was going through his head._ _

__Turning back to the mountain, I took a deep breath, and began my ascent._ _


	29. Northwatch Keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar’s POV

Standing around waiting for Eira to bring out Tullius and the reinforcements wasn’t going to do us any good, so instead we headed north, trudging through the snow towards Northwatch Keep. I had expected to find the place stocked with Thalmor forces, and the soldiers were battle-ready when we arrived at the surprisingly deserted keep. The food in the stores was rotten, dust thickening the air, and the only thing we had to fight were the frostbite spiders that had infested the place. 

‘Looks like nobody’s been here for months,’ Hearst said. ‘Keeps the soldiers happy.’ 

‘Until they realise that all the stores are inedible, and there are cobwebs in all the beds,’ I pointed out. ‘Our rations are running low.’

‘With the dragon out burning the docks and reinforcements on the way, we can at least lay siege to Solitude by tomorrow.’

‘They’ll be waiting for us,’ I replied. ‘The second they realise that Tullius and whatever of his forces they spared are gone, they’ll have row upon row of soldiers waiting for us outside the city gates.’

‘Then we should split the force,’ Hearst said. ‘Send the swordsmen the way we came to keep them distracted whilst the mages go around the mountain pass. They can burn down the embassy on their way. Send the archers with them and they can use the mountains to shoot down into the city.’ 

‘It’s not a simple matter of burning down the embassy,’ I said. ‘I don’t believe Elenwen, Lorcarion and whoever else is leading the enemy’s forces are foolish enough to keep all their assets in one place. I’ll bet two hundred septims that the embassy is full of proficient battlemages, the kind they can’t afford to lose early. They’ll wait until we’ve besieged them then send them out, pulling our army in two directions and trapping us outside the gates. It’ll be a massacre. And if battlemages see half an army coming to smoke them out, they’ll be reduced to ashes.’

‘You think our mages can’t stand against theirs?’

‘I don’t think it, I know it,’ I answered. ‘I _am_ a Thalmor-trained battlemage, and there isn’t a single one in our forces who could match me in a duel. Except Eira, of course.’ 

‘Then what do we do? Ask the dragon to torch the embassy too?’ 

‘Seems like our only option,’ I answered. ‘But we’ll have to wait for Eira to return. Only she can command him. For now, search the fort for anything we can use. Don’t let the men at any wine or mead that you may find. And be careful when you’re down in the prisons - there could still be someone down there. Dead or alive.’ 

‘Yes, sir.’ 

I watched Hearst go and round up a team of soldiers and take them through the fort’s crooked passageways. Resisting the urge to slump down on the nearest chair, I instead climbed the ladder up to the fort’s roof to wander around the top. Unwisely perhaps, but a quick scan of the surrounding landscape offered no hint that anyone was lurking out here to shoot me.

Turning my gaze to the distant silhouette of Castle Volkihar, my thoughts turned to Eira again. Why could I not go anywhere without seeing her? I saw her in the wrinkles of snow on the ground, in the waves that heaved against the craggy shore, I saw her in the rocky mountainside and in the shadow of that distant castle she once conquered. I heard her in the still distant roaring of the dragon, remembering that day Odahviing carried her away to Skuldafn and left me crying in a heap like a child on the Great Porch. She was the warmth of a hearth against the bitter Atmoran wind, the scent of cinnamon on a Sundas afternoon, the light of the moons to guide me through the void. She had become part of this land, part of the lifeblood that flowed through its people, part of the spirit that held this country together in the face of invasion.

Nothing made sense to me anymore. Of course I still loved her - it’s not like I ever stopped. But the stress of our roles in this war had torn us apart. Her wilfulness was too much these days - with the weight of Skyrim’s freedom on my head, I couldn’t afford to occupy myself with Eira’s stubbornness and selfishness. At least, I saw it as selfishness. But was I any better, to have forsaken her to make my life easier? I knew well enough that life was never supposed to be easy.I didn’t know if we could ever reconcile, or if I even wanted us to, or if she would want us to. I missed her, I missed our life, I missed our girls. My head was cycling round and round, juggling my thoughts like knives ready to fall and cut me at any moment. 

A horse’s whinny sounded from beyond the trees. I braced myself, drawing ice into my palms. When the rider came into view, my breath caught, and my heart sank. Joric pulled the dark steed up to the keep’s gate and helped Sissel down from its back as I rushed down the stairs. 

‘What are you doing here?’ I demanded when the guards let them through. Joric’s face was grim, Sissel’s eyes bright and reddened by recent tears. 

‘We rode as fast as we could,’ he explained. ‘Whiterun is under siege.’

I stared at him in horror. ‘How?’

‘They came from the direction of Dawnstar,’ said Sissel. ‘We left as soon as we saw them coming.’

‘There won’t be any reinforcements,’ said Joric. ‘Every other soldier is trapped inside the city walls. Or dead. It’s just the ones already out here.’

‘Then we’re doomed,’ I muttered.

‘Not doomed,’ said Sissel. ‘We fled because of our visions. We don’t want the Thalmor forcing us to work for them, and they may be helpful out here.’

‘Where’s your sister?’

‘I...we couldn’t find her. Anywhere.’ Sissel looked down at the ground, biting her lip. ‘I think she may have fell in among the forces after all.’

I cursed, beckoning them to follow me into the keep. ‘Then I pray that Whiterun holds out.’

‘We need a place to sit quietly,’ Sissel requested. ‘Somewhere we can receive visions uninterrupted.’ 

‘Legate!’ I barked at Odila, who turned from the group of soldiers she was jabbering at. ‘Assign some quarters to these two. The rest of you, go search the keep for anything useful.’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ they all chimed, disbanding. Sissel offered me a weary smile as she and Joric followed Odila through the keep, and I finally slumped into a chair, wondering how much more the gods planned to do with me before they afforded me some peace.


End file.
